


North Star

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Firefly Setting, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, Companions (Firefly), F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Outer Space, Sex Work, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: In which Arthur is a highborn Companion who finds a family in a petty criminal named Merlin and his ragtag crew of misfits.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wow.
> 
> Alright, I've got a few notes on this one. Firstly, it's the longest thing I've ever written, let alone finished. Secondly, I managed to do this in less than two weeks. The inspiration and motivation never go hand in hand like that, so I'm feeling pretty blessed about this fic. It was great practice for when I (hopefully) will write a novel this summer; a lot of recurring themes and moments. Hopefully you'll catch them.
> 
> You don't need to be familiar with Firefly to get the fic, though I don't know why anyone wouldn't want to be familiar with Firefly. Seriously, it's a great show that'll take you no time at all to finish. I think I do a pretty good job of explaining any of the oddities about that little world; give me a shout if anything was confusing. If you're a Firefly aficionado, however, I'm sure I have some facts and figures wrong, as I probably do on the medical side of things as well. Forgive my little errors; I don't think they distract too much from the story.
> 
> I attempted a sex scene for the first time in this fic - to be honest, I hate sex scenes in general, but this one actually has a thematic purpose so. It wouldn't make sense not to write one. Plus, if I'm gonna write a fic where the main character is, albeit not a traditional, sex worker, then I need to up my game a little bit in the sex department. 
> 
> I'm so proud of this, and I hope you all like it. Please shoot me a comment if you do!

Arthur had never planned on becoming a Companion.

Since he was a young boy, his father had wanted Arthur to become a soldier. Not just any soldier, of course – the regal bloodline of the Pendragons, going all of the way back to Earth-That-Was, would hardly deign to produce a mere common soldier. He had to be perfect.

From the time that he was five years old, Uther had enrolled his son in the most elite of all military training. Seven year old Arthur learned the complicated history of the Alliance. Ten year old Arthur learned how to wield a sword. Fourteen year old Arthur learned how to be a tactician, strategizing the best ways to accomplish military success.

Fifteen year old Arthur ruined Uther’s great and mighty plan of having his son command the Alliance’s army.

“Come on, boys, no rebel will ever take you seriously if you can’t even fight each other!”

 _Then give one of us a gun,_ Arthur thought half-heartedly as he ducked the other boy’s swinging fist. The muddy grown beneath him squelched as he did so, but he was sure-footed enough not to trip. He knew that his teachers were just preparing them for emergencies, that in the field they would nearly always be armed, but it still felt rather worthless to his arrogant fifteen year old mind.

He ducked the boy’s fists again and dived toward his legs, hoping to get both of them on the ground, distracting the other boy with the dirt that was sure to get in his eyes. He could hear his classmates’ cheers and taunts from the circle that had formed around them, and the audience only made Arthur more ferocious in his efforts for victory.

He tussled with the boy on the ground for a few moments, but he was smaller and not neraly as strong as Arthur, and Arthur managed to pin within a matter of minutes. The cheers of the crowd made Arthur’s adrenaline surge, his heart lift in victory – but then a noise from below him made him stop.

The boy who had lost was laughing.

And then a terrible pain cut into the back of Arthur’s knee.

He gasped before he fell, and then didn’t remember.

* * *

 

“A torn ligament! A _torn ligament_! The nerve of that boy! Bringing a _knife_ to a fistfight! Oh, he’ll be expelled from the Academy, I’ll tell you that right now. He’ll never work another day in his life. Who are his parents? They’ll be disgraced. Their boy will never see the light of day.”

“Father,” Arthur said miserably from his hospital bed, knee bandaged up, a flash of pain going through it, causing tremors all through Arthur’s body. “Father, just stop.”

“I will not stop, Arthur!” Uther Pendragon, hair greyer and face more infuriated than Arthur had ever seen in his life, nearly snarled at him. Uther was often infuriated, a hazard of being one of Londinium’s top politicians, but his eyes had a wild look about them that Arthur had never seen before. “This boy has _ruined_ your future! It will take months of therapy to get your knee to a _tolerable_ condition, let alone back to normal! And the Academy won’t let you back in unless you’re in perfect condition. That’s what elite _means,_ Arthur, and I’m sorry to say that you don’t qualify anymore!”

Tears pricked Arthur’s eyes but he wouldn’t let his face betray that. He had disappointed his father enough today without weeping like a young girl. Uther would surely have something to say about showing weakness like that.

Uther sighed, suddenly looking very tired, and the frenzied pacing he had kept up since he’d entered the hospital finally ended as he dropped into the chair next to Arthur’s bedside, running a hand through his silver hair.

“Well, we just need to think of options,” Uther muttered and Arthur knew that he wasn’t addressing Arthur, merely talking to himself. “Fifteen is a little old to start at the beginning of anything, but not old enough that I couldn’t do some convincing.”

“Couldn’t I train to become a politician? Like you, Father?” Arthur suggested, hope daring to filter through his voice. Maybe if he became like Uther, his father would finally see him as an equal.

“No, no,” Uther muttered without a thought, and Arthur’s heart sank in his chest once more. “Osiris is too far away. And that rules out medical school…Hmm.” And then his face set, crystallizing in an idea. Arthur’s heart beat faster. “You’ll go to Sihnon, with your sister.”

Arthur frowned in confusion. “Do you mean – Companion training?”

“Of course,” Uther answered as if Arthur’s question was insulting. “What else is Sihnon good for?”

“But Father,” Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his bed, a growing feeling of fear in his stomach. “I don’t want to be a – a –”

“A _what?_ ” Uther’s eyes grew dark and dangerous as he surveyed Arthur, and Arthur shrank under his father’s scrutinizing gaze gaze. “Were you just about to call Morgana – and the rest of the fine men and women who do good work as Companions – what? Prostitutes? _Whores_?”

“No,” Arthur whispered as the fear inside of him turned to shame. He knew that a Companion was a respectable profession and that there was no one in the world as lovely as Morgana, who had been on Sihnon for four years. And yet there seemed to him to be a very tangible difference between respecting the work of Companions and being one himself.

“Good,” Uther’s face relaxed and he very nearly looked loving as he reached up to pat Arthur’s shoulder. “Maybe this is for the best. You could have been sent to any number of Border and Rim world planets as a soldier. But Sihnon is our sister planet, and you can return to Londinium once you’ve finished your training.”

Uther stood. Arthur thought that he was rising to leave, but instead he wrapped a firm arm around Arthur’s shoulder and pressed a kiss into his hair. Arthur had to stop himself from shivering. He couldn’t remember the last time his father kissed him.

“Yes,” Uther squeezed his shoulder more tightly. “You’ll be close. Close to me. That’s for the best.”

Long after Uther left the hospital, Arthur stared at his hands. He had never thought that Uther wanted him near him, had never expressed the love and affection that would have suggested it.

And yet his words told a different story. His father wanted him close by. Maybe his father truly did love him, or at least he wanted to love him.

Whatever Uther’s motives, the possibility of obtaining his father’s love was reason enough for Arthur to go to Sihnon.

* * *

 

“Little brother,” Arthur heard as he exited the ship. The ride had been a short one, but Arthur had only been off-world half a dozen times before, and never to Sihnon. It really was as beautiful as everyone said it was, the ruby-pink of dusk shimmering around them.

Morgana, naturally, wore a playful smirk on her face as she regarded Arthur. Her ebony hair blew in the breeze, her green eyes dancing in amusement. She probably thought it was hilarious that Arthur was here with her when in their youth, he had so often and exuberantly proclaimed that his future of soldiering made him better than she.

“ _Elder_ sister,” Arthur bit back, though not violently. Instead, he drew her into a quick hug that she returned, pecking his cheek. She wore a regal black dress that shimmered as the light hit it; proper garb for a Companion-in-training. Arthur hadn’t seen many male Companions before and therefore had no idea what he would be expected to wear.

“How’s your knee?” Morgana asked, looking down at the uncomfortable brace Arthur had to wear for the next six months. Arthur grimaced as he followed her gaze.

“Painful but healing,” he told her. “The doctors say that I’ll never regain full use of it, but once I finish my therapy, I should be able to function normally with only minimal pain.”

Morgana sighed, and when she looked up, her eyes were genuine instead of playful. “I’m sorry,” she said without her usual sarcasm. “I know how much fighting for the Alliance would have meant to you. Especially since a revolution is looking to be more and more of a reality.”

Anger twisted in Arthur’s stomach at his being cheated of this life, but he pushed it down as best he could. “Well, look at this way. Now I get to spend more time with my _dear_ and _beloved_ sister.”

“Only on the weekends,” Morgana linked their arms as she led up away from the busy landing docks, bustling with well-dressed, professional-looking types that Arthur was sure were all Companions either arriving or departing on their home world. “You’ll be in one of the boys’ temples. There are two of them, and eight for girls, with about fifty Companions-in-training in each one.”

“I do know this already,” Arthur said as she tugged him toward a transport vehicle.

“Just making sure you retained the information,” Morgana said cheerfully, ducking down toward the vehicle’s window to mutter a few words to the driver before she and Arthur entered the backseat and the vehicle started making its slow and steady way through all of the pedestrians. “Father managed to convince the priestesses to allow you into the advanced classes of your age group instead of making you start with the twelve-year-olds. Training for the Guild is much harder than for soldiering, so you’ll have to work hard, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

“Was that a compliment?” Arthur shoved Morgana’s shoulder lightly and she laughed, a bright tinkling sound ringing through the air.

“It’s a threat,” she said, still teasingly. “You’re in Nimueh’s temple, and she’s got a reputation for putting you nasty boys in your place.”

“She can’t be worse than the military,” Arthur pointed out, but Morgana just shook her head at him.

“You have no idea how intense this training is,” she said. “And you can’t even start fencing and marksmanship until that brace is off. So you won’t be good at anything for another six months.”

“Hey!” Arthur glared, insecurity rising inside of him. His impending failure was the thought that had kept him up the whole week between realizing that Companionship was his future and arriving on Sihnon. He knew Companions had to be well-versed in practically everything, look and act beautifully at all times, and of course, be the most wonderful lover to exist.

Arthur shuddered a bit at that thought, but knew he wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of training for a few more years.

“I had to learn history and politics for military training,” he defended himself to Morgana’s taunts. “I’m sure I’ll do passably in both subjects.”

“Of course you will,” Morgana said as if she never really doubted it, and Arthur dug his fingernails into his hand, a nervous tic he’d never gotten rid of. “Seriously, Arthur, the first six months will be the hardest. After you get your brace off and catch up in training, you’ll be fine. And you’re such an overachiever that I’m sure you won’t rest into you’re the best in your temple.”

Her confidence shone through as she spoke, and Arthur wished he had the same confidence in himself. But he’d spent his whole life training to be a soldier, to give orders and shoot on command. He was hardly equipped with the right temperament to be the perfect lover, the perfect listener, perfectly educated, perfect in every way.

He and Morgana exchanged a few more teasing comments, but it wasn’t long before the vehicle arrived at the temple that Arthur would be calling home for the next five years. It was a beautiful place, he noted as Morgana walked him through the entryway, a sprawling garden that led into the temple’s main building. Other buildings soon replaced the garden, leading the way toward the pyramid-shaped temple.

A woman stood at the temple’s entrance, her black hair piled intricately atop her head, the scarlet of her flowing dress matching her lips that curved into a smile when she saw the pair of them approaching.

“Priestess Nimueh,” Morgana curtsied as she arrived, narrowing her eyes in Arthur’s direction as she did so, causing Arthur to make a short bow. “My brother, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Arthur,” Nimueh extended her hand. Arthur’s eyes flickered toward Morgana, unsure what to do, but her face was passive. He took Nimueh’s hand in shook it firmly, but the look on her face and the sigh from Morgana alerted him to the fact that this was the wrong choice. Shame coiled inside of him again.

“It seems as if the soldier has not been trained to be a gentleman,” Nimueh said, eyes flickering in amusement. “Don’t worry.  You’ll soon learn. If you’ll follow me, Arthur, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“Good luck,” Morgana said softly from behind him. “I’ll visit next week.”

Arthur didn’t want her to leave, but he smiled at her retreating form anyway. He tried not to shake as he looked back over at Nimueh, whose red smile was still trained upon him.

“Are you frightened of me, Arthur?” She said, her voice light and airy.

Arthur swallowed. “No,” he lied.

“Maybe you should be,” she said, face and voice as lovely as ever, but there was a look in her eyes that made Arthur wish that he was anywhere but here.

* * *

 

“Again!”

“ _C’est_... _c’est beau_ …”  Arthur hesitated, and that was enough for Nimueh’s wrath to overtake one more.

“Honestly, Arthur, if you can’t even string together a few _words_ of French, you’ll never get your license. Again!”

Arthur stammered through a few more sentences, but the whispers of the boys around him were too consuming. “He even has trouble with _Mandarin_ …have you heard him play the violin, it’s atrocious…he’ll never control his temper long enough to do anything productive…who cares if he’s pretty if he’s an idiot?”

“Arthur!” Nimueh’s slap across his cheek cut out the other voices around him, her fingernails scratching cruelly across his skin. “Again!”

Just as Arthur’s classmate had predicted, Arthur’s temper couldn’t stand up to the humiliation. He glared down at Nimueh, his body shaking with anger. “Why do _whores_ need to learn French?”

Arthur knew he deserved the slap that came next.

He also knew he deserved the week locked in his room, even though it put him even further behind in his studies. He tried to use the time to read up on psychology and religion, two classes he’d never had to take before, but anger and shame occupied his thoughts much more often than the compartments of the brain and Christ’s resurrection.

He was allowed out for therapy for his knee, but the doctor of the temple, Edwin, was an unpleasant man who seemed to take sadistic pleasure in Arthur’s pain, even mocking him for it, telling him that a boy like him would never have what it takes to be a Companion.

Finally, curled up in his bunk on his last night of solitary confinement, Arthur realized that he was here to stay. This was his reality now and nothing he could do would change that.

He was going to be a Companion.

He might as well try to be a good one.

It’s what his father would want him to do.

* * *

 

Thankfully, Arthur picked up enough French to avoid the back of Nimueh’s hand, and studied up on his Mandarin to make sure he was still conversational. Just as he had told Morgana, he had fine marks in history and politics, along with religion, which was unexpected. Psychology was difficult for him, but at least interesting. He remained a rather terrible musician, but he found that the piano was easier for him than violin lessons.

Once the brace on his knee came off was when he really began to enjoy his classes. The lack of the brace added three wonderful parts of his day. Fencing, martial arts, and marksmanship were far and away Arthur’s greatest abilities, and besting his competition gave him the same satisfaction he’d felt in military training. His knee still caused him problems, but it was nothing that he couldn’t overcome, especially if it meant holding a sword again.

It didn’t matter how well he did, though; his classmates still despised him. Despite the fact that they all came from rich, upper-class families like him, they thought him to be the most privileged of them all, illustrated by his skipping multiple years of training.

But Morgana was right, and Arthur had fought his way toward being an above average member of his class. He wasn’t at the top and didn’t think he’d ever be, but he would pass his examinations and get his license. Of that, he was certain. His father could be proud of that.

It wasn’t until he was eighteen, however, that he truly felt like he could be not an average Companion, but a great one.

It was their first class regarding giving pleasure, and Arthur’s classmates were buzzing in anticipation. Nerves and fear were palpable all throughout the classroom, and Nimueh only heightened their anxiety as she approached, regal and frightening as ever.

“The first lesson of pleasure,” Nimueh declared to the room, voice light and lilting as the whispers of the other boys died away, “is control. As a Companion, you must always be in control of the situation. Your client has come to you for a perfect night, and it is your responsibility to give them whatever they please. Therefore, you must already _know_ what they please. Instinctually. With a glance or a brush of hands, you must take control and give them their desires without them ever having to articulate it. That is the mark of a great Companion.”

Murmurs went throughout the classroom and Arthur dug his fingernails into his palm to keep his thoughts from running away with him. He had always been afraid of these classes, and now he knew why. Nimueh was handing them what seemed like a nearly impossible task.

“This is not as strenuous as it may appear,” Nimueh’s voice broke through the din once again. “The key to learning this is strategy. You must be able to look at a person – and a situation – objectively. Learn about your client before you meet them. Their career, their family, their background. Learn about what makes them who they are. When you meet them, you will always begin a session with a formal tea ceremony so that you can read their movements. Are they nervous? Confident? Arrogant? Insecure? Find their strengths. Find their weaknesses. Find what they _want._ And give it to them.”

Arthur gazed intently at her as thoughts ran rampant through his brain. More than anything, this sounded like _military_ strategy. Looking at a terrain, at the enemy soldiers, their numbers, their depletions, the best way to exploit their weaknesses.

But with his clients, it would just be the reverse; he’d highlight their strengths, make those shine, instead of working his way in through their weaknesses.

This was the work of a tactician.

This was something he’d been trained to do since birth.

* * *

 

Arthur’s exams were to be held the week after his twentieth birthday. If he passed, he would become a registered Companion with the Guild. If he failed, he’d only have one more chance, the following year, to retake his exams before being removed from the temple permanently.

He managed to get through all of his subjects decently, the only poor marks being language and music, but he’d expected that, and his marks in fencing and marksmanship pulled up his average more than enough to make up for it.

The only thing that truly frightened him was the fact that the final exam would double be his first client.

“So who did you choose?” Morgana asked him, drinking lightly from her teacup. Though she’d been registered the year previously, she had just arrived to visit him on Sihnon one last time –and hopefully accompany him back to Londinium when his exams were over. “I doubt Nimueh offers herself up to the boys who she’s spent years intimidating.”

“Nimueh only sleeps with women anyway,” Arthur reminded her. “I chose a girl named Vivian. Her mother leads one of the temples. She never passed Companion training but she still lives on Sihnon. I thought she’d be the easiest to impress.”

“Naturally,” Morgana rolled her eyes. “So what about when you’re registered? Are you still going to choose easily impressionable young girls, or are you going to have a variety?”

“You’re one to talk about variety,” Arthur teased her lightly. “ _You_ only choose women twice your age.”

“I _like_ women twice my age,” Morgana raised a haughty eyebrow at him.

“Well, I’d prefer to keep my clients no more than ten years older than me.” Arthur wasn’t actually that judgmental of Morgana’s choices, but it was fun to tease her. “And no younger than sixteen, because that feels morally unsound. But I’ll have some variety in there. Men and women. Blondes and brunettes. Maybe a redhead or two.”

“Politicians, mainly, since you’ll be on Londinium,” Morgana said lightly and Arthur nodded.

“Don’t forget their easily impressionable young daughters,” he reminded her and she laughed.

They fell into silence for a moment before Morgana said gently “Are you glad you’re here? That you made it this far?”

“Of course,” Arthur said, somewhat surprised at the question. He and Morgana didn’t broach emotional territory very often with one another. “I mean, the Independence is all but destroyed; the Alliance reigns supreme. I clearly wasn’t needed.”

“You’re not angry that you couldn’t fight?”

Arthur shrugged. “I mean, I am. I was furious when the war started and I wasn’t there to help. But now that it’s over…”

“Well, little brother, seems like you’ve finally got some perspective,” Morgana patted his hand with a smile full of what was easily recognizable as pride.

* * *

 

“Well, you’re very pretty,” Vivian told him as they drank their tea, and Arthur tried to smile charmingly back at her and not show how nervous he was. “You’ve got that going for you.”

“You’re too kind,” Arthur said, trying to make his voice sound deep and smooth. “That’s a rare quality in a woman of your stature.”

Vivian drew herself up with an arrogant little smile and Arthur could have sighed in relief. “I am quite unique.”

“You are,” Arthur told her, not even halfway believing it. “And beautiful as well.”

“Am I?” She said with a smirk. “How about you show me how beautiful you think I am?”

Arthur smiled at her, rising to his feet, but a crackling pain in his knee made him wince.

“Is everything alright?” Vivian asked, and Arthur saw actual concern on her face. He wondered if she would take well to emotional intimacy within their night together, and decided to take the chance.

“An old injury in my knee is all,” he told her, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet. “Nothing to worry yourself with.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow and Arthur knew he’d made the wrong call. Judgment filtered through her voice. “An injury? I thought companions were supposed to be _perfect_.”

Arthur kissed her to stop her talking, but her words echoed in his head long after he passed his exam and was finally registered with the Guild.

Her words finally quieted with a message sent from his father. _Congratulations, Arthur. I knew you could do it. Shuttle back to Londinium with your sister. I’m proud of you._

His father was proud of him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t perfect as long as his father was proud of him.

* * *

 

_Ten Years Later_

Arthur snagged his third glass of champagne and finished it within two gulps.

Unfortunately for him, champagne glasses were not overly large, and he found himself longing for pint of ale.

That was unbecoming of a gala of this stature, however, and he knew that three glasses of champagne was really pushing it if he wanted to be on top form tonight. But the thought of sleeping with Cenred stone cold sober was unbearable enough for him to consider a fourth.

“Arthur,” Cenred sidled up to him at the bar, his arm going tight around Arthur’s waist. Arthur forced himself to lean into him as if he was having just the most _wonderful_ time.

He was not.

“Where were you?” Arthur asked as if he cared.

“Just talking about some business ventures,” Cenred waved a vague hand across the room that was practically brimming with important politicians. Arthur’s father wasn’t here tonight, thank God. Uther was perhaps the only person who could make this night less fun. “Did you want another drink?”

“No,” Arthur said only slightly begrudgingly. “I’ll pass.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to dance?” Cenred gestured toward the expensive dance floor filled with men in suits and women in their most elaborate costumed dresses. Arthur wasn’t big on dancing, but it was expected at events like this. He had accepted Cenred’s request of accompaniment because he figured that years of being Uther Pendragon’s son would prepare him for such a thing.

Plus, Cenred was a respectable politician who had risen well above his station for a man so young, and Arthur had figured he’d at least be charming and interesting.

He was neither of these things. The only adjective that Arthur truly thought described him was _smarmy._

“Certainly,” he put on his most charming smile as he took Cenred’s outstretched hand.

He let Cenred lead – men like him always wanted to lead – and they danced for a few songs together. The man was a decent dancer, at the very least, even if his hands were too tight around Arthur’s waist. Finally, the violinists started a song that allowed partner-switching, and Arthur sighed in relief as he let go of Cenred’s arm. He quickly snagged one of the politicians’ wives and began to dance with her. She smiled up at him sweetly, but it wasn’t a few seconds later that his arm was tapped by someone else and he turned to find another man, dark-haired and smiling.

“May I cut in?” He asked, voice mild. Arthur thought he meant the woman, and he stepped aside, but the man put an arm out. “No, I mean you.” 

Arthur nodded, not minding who he was dancing with as long as it wasn’t Cenred. He put an arm on the man’s shoulder, but the man shrugged it off.

“You mind leading?” He asked. “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Of course,” Arthur frowned at the unexpected request, but the man’s self-deprecating tone was somewhat endearing. He put a hand one the man’s waist and stepped forward in time with the music.

“Having a good night?” The man asked him conversationally, tripping slightly over Arthur’s feet before righting himself. Arthur wondered how the man could have been invited to such a prestigious event without knowing how to waltz.

“Of course,” Arthur put his questions out of his mind, voice light and charming as he smiled up at the man. He was handsome enough, with dark hair that curled slightly around his ears and stubble to match, cheekbones sharp and skin pale.

The man laughed lightly. “Well, excuse me for saying so, but you don’t look like you’re having a wonderful time.”

“Have you been watching me?” Arthur asked, a bit curious. He was a Companion, and therefore should be used to being the object of attention, especially the lustful sort, but it always managed to surprise him when someone took notice of him.

The man shrugged, a small grin appearing on his face. His smile made him more attractive, lighting up his face in an endearing way. “You could say so. I’ve really been watching your date.”

Well. That was a little disappointing. Arthur frowned. “You can have him,” he muttered in a rare showing of displeasure while he was on the job.

The man laughed, smile growing even wider. “No – not like that. I’m being paid to start a fight with him.”

Arthur’s head jerked up in surprise. The man just grinned while Arthur blinked uncomprehendingly at him. “I’m sorry – what?”

“I’m being paid to start a fight with him,” the man repeated. “Cenred Slate, right? And you’re Arthur Pendragon. He hired you to be his Companion for the night.”

Arthur blinked again. “How did you –?”

“I do my research,” the man said with the smallest hint of pride in his voice. “You don’t survive long in the world of petty crime if you don’t research your jobs thoroughly.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Arthur asked, shock and confusion bleeding through his voice. He usually didn’t convey any real emotions in a situation like this, but the man’s presence really threw a wrench in what Arthur thought this evening would look like.

“Because you looked so goddamn miserable that I figured you would help me out if it would save you from a night with that smarmy bastard,” the man told him, blue eyes laughing but serious nonetheless.

Arthur should have asked a lot of questions, or probably just hurried away before the song ended, but instead, his insecurities got the better of him. “…You could tell I was miserable?”

“You’re a good actor,” the man told him, voice reassuring. “But I’m better. And I know misery when I see it. So will you help me?”

“I don’t _know_ you,” Arthur pointed out.

“Well, my name’s Merlin,” he said with a grin, and for some inexplicable reason, Arthur was almost positive that it was his real name. Even though the man would do nothing but benefit from lying about his identity, he had presumably – at least in Arthur’s esteemed opinion – told the truth. “And I already know your name is Arthur. There – we know each other. Now will you help me?”

“That depends on why you’re starting the fight,” Arthur didn’t even hesitate. He was a politician’s son; he knew how games like this were played.

Merlin nodded as if he expected the question. “An unknown benefactor contacted me with a very good offer for very good money if I could start an escalation of events that would lead to delegitimizing Cenred Slate’s political career. They mentioned that they thought the best way to do it would be to have him start a brawl at an important political event where it would be very critical for him to throw the first punch. According to my benefactor, there are men and women placed strategically about the room so that when he punches me, other fights will break out until this lovely gala becomes a brawl.”

“And why did you take this job?” Arthur wondered aloud as he processed the information. He wasn’t exactly opposed to helping this Merlin character, even if he was the pettiest of all petty criminals, but he wasn’t exactly convinced either. It would only bring him pain if he were to be caught as a criminal accomplice. His father would never look him in the eye again.

“Slate’s policies are awful,” Merlin said with an eye-roll. “His thoughts on immigration make me sick, he voted against sending help and supplies for moons on the Outer Rim, and he has no interest in anyone but himself.”

Arthur nearly snorted. “You’re a politically-educated petty criminal?”

“We’re a rare breed,” Merlin told him with a charming grin.

Arthur knew he’d probably regret this, but the thought of spending any more time with Cenred helped him ask his next question. “And what, exactly, would helping you entail?”

“You’re already doing it,” Merlin winked at him, his smile bringing out the dimples on his chin. “Slate is not only rich and affluent enough to hire a Companion for the evening, but he’s also arrogant and slimy enough to believe that makes you beholden to him. He sees you as an investment of time and money, and _definitely_ won’t take well to seeing you with another man.”

“I think your great plan is already backfiring,” Arthur glanced throughout the hall, where dozens of couples were dancing around the pair of them. He caught a glimpse of Cenred dancing with a red-haired woman near the bar. “He hasn’t even noticed.”

“That’s because I haven’t done this yet,” Merlin told him. Arthur blinked a couple of times when he didn’t move with his words. Finally, Merlin asked, “May I?”

Arthur hesitated, but Merlin’s smile was open and genuine, and for some reason beyond Arthur’s comprehension, he trusted the self-admitted crook.

He nodded.

Merlin let go of Arthur’s shoulder, instead using his hands to take Arthur’s from his waist. He lifted their arms above their heads and twisted Arthur around. Merlin pressed his head against Arthur’s own as he lined up their backs, still holding his hands, Arthur’s arms entwined across his stomach.

“See if he doesn’t notice now,” Merlin murmured, his mouth inches from Arthur’s ear. Arthur had been a Companion long enough that this was a typical sort of thing, and relaxed into Merlin’s touch. Still, it was nicer that it had felt with many of his clients. Merlin was warm against his back, but he wasn’t trying anything overtly sexual. He was just holding Arthur closely. It might look sexual to someone like Cenred, but it felt more like a romantic gesture than anything. Arthur wasn’t used to touches like that. He leaned his head sideways against Merlin’s.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Told you,” Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear, voice deep and melodic, and Arthur held in a laugh.

Cenred, however, had garnered a few people’s attention as he stormed over to the pair of them, his expression full of rage. Arthur felt Merlin loosen his grip on him, his arms falling lax at his sides.

Merlin laughed, but it wasn’t the genuine sound Arthur had grown used to in their brief conversation. This laughter was short and mean and arrogant. “What’s your problem, friend? Just trying to have a good time.”

Now Merlin sounded a bit too much like one of his angrier and more possessive clients, but Arthur knew it was an act, that the real Merlin had been the one dancing with him. Right now, he was trying to get Cenred angry enough to start a fight.

“You’re trying to have a good time with _my_ Companion,” Cenred growled, his hand reaching out to Arthur, yanking him slightly toward him. “I’ve paid good money for tonight and won’t have that ruined by some ingrate who doesn’t know his own station. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Yeah,” Merlin nearly snarled as he stepped toward Cenred. “I think you’re an entitled prick who should be dropped on a planet before it’s been terraformed so that you can die the slow and painful death that I’m sure you deserve, you piece of shit.”

_Smack._

Arthur winced as Cenred stood over Merlin, who had stumbled backward at the impact, blood visible near his nose. The crowd around them had grown substantially though, so he assumed almost everyone had seen it. Arthur could have sworn that Merlin smiled at him, but he didn’t have enough time to process it, because Cenred’s arm was rough against his back a moment later, fingers curling possessively and violently at Arthur’s hairline.

“What do you have to say for yourself then?” Cenred hissed in Arthur’s ear, and Arthur vaguely wondered where Merlin’s benefactor’s men were. “You’re _my_ property.”

Cenred wheeled around, shouting across the expansive room, fingers tight against Arthur’s neck, threatening to choke. “Did all of you bastards hear that? Don’t touch it – it’s mine.”

Arthur knew perfectly well that he could defend himself from whatever Cenred decided to throw at him, words or actions, but he could still taste bile in the back of his throat being referred to as _it._

“The fuck did you just call him?” He heard a voice growl from behind him, and suddenly Cenred was wrenched away from him, Merlin’s fist colliding with the contours of Cenred’s smarmy face.

Cenred looked surprised for half a second before his face contorted in rage and he took a stride forward to grab Merlin by the scruff off his neck.

“I called _it_ what _it_ is,” Cenred snarled, letting him go just to hit him again. And again. And _again_ , his fist and Merlin’s face growing bloodier with each successive smack.

Arthur was vaguely aware that the brawl Merlin had spoken of was breaking out around them, the noises of other fists colliding with body parts, people yelling and screaming, violence and chaos all around them, but he was focused entirely upon pulling Cenred off the top of Merlin’s scarlet-covered face.

He managed to wrench Cenred away from Merlin, but the look in the man’s eye was dangerous and feral as he regarded Arthur. “And just what are _you_ going to do to me, whore?”

Arthur didn’t even hesitate. Cenred had done more than enough to merit a black mark from the Guild in the past minute alone.

And besides, Companion training, despite its best efforts, had never managed to quash the deep fathoms of Arthur’s temper.

He punched Cenred square in the jaw and before other man had time to react, punched him again in the stomach. When he was doubled over, Arthur kicked his legs out from under him before bending over to jab at his face. And then he kicked him in the balls for good measure.

“Piece of shit,” he muttered, turning away when Cenred stopped trying to fight back.

Chaos reigned around him, and Arthur thought that he should probably try to get out of there while he had the chance, before officials arrived to break it up. Merlin _definitely_ needed to get out of there if he wanted to avoid getting arrested and ruining his cultivated plan.

 _Merlin_. Right. Arthur located Merlin, still lying on the ground, face bloody enough to obscure his features. He knelt down next to him, intending to check for a pulse, but then he heard Merlin let out a weak chuckle.

“That went well, huh?” Merlin’s voice was scratchy but solid, and Arthur nearly laughed despite everything.

“Come on,” Arthur pulled Merlin to his feet. He swayed slightly, but managed to stay upright when he leaned against Arthur’s side. “Let’s get out of here before someone does _that_ to _my_ face.”

“That’d be tragic,” Merlin muttered into his shoulder before saying, “Thanks, Arthur. You really don’t have to. I’ll come with a story for the feds.”

“I said I’d help you,” Arthur told him. “I don’t go back on my word. Come on.”

It was difficult and strenuous, but Arthur managed to pull Merlin through the crowd without anyone stopping them. Perhaps they figured that Arthur had been through enough that night.

* * *

 

Merlin stopped talking not long after they’d gotten out of the building, probably because the blood in his mouth made it difficult to formulate words. Arthur made the split-second decision to bring him to his home; it was in a classy place, a classy neighborhood, the kind that only a Companion could afford. But he brought Merlin there instead of a hospital, figuring the hospital might ask too many prying questions, and that Arthur’s answers might get back to his father.

Uther Pendragon would not take well to his son consorting with criminals.

So Arthur deposited Merlin on to his couch and tried his best to patch up his face, cleaning the blood off of it gingerly with a cool towel and bandaging his clearly broken nose. Remarkably, he hadn’t lost any of his teeth, though he’d clearly bitten his tongue pretty damn hard.

“I’m just glad they don’t allow guns at galas like that,” Arthur muttered half-hearted to the still quiet Merlin. “That would have ended in a real tragedy.”

Surprisingly, Merlin answered. “S’my first question. To my benefactor. Didn’t know the rules. Wouldn’t’ve agreed otherwise. Don’t much care for being shot.”

Arthur smiled, relieved that he was stringing words together. “No, I don’t imagine that would be a good time.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, shifting slightly to face him, though his eyes were heavy and shifting out of focus. “You’re a good man, Arthur. Brave one, too. I’m real sorry. I didn’t plan on aggravating him this much, but after what he said to you –”

He cut off, wincing, and Arthur swallowed thickly. “I’ve been called a whore before,” Arthur said, trying to keep his voice mild. “And property on a few occasions as well. I’ve never been called ‘it’, however. I think that’s taking things a bit too far.”

Merlin shook his head, even though it was clearly causing him pain to do so. “Everything he said was a bit too far. What you do isn’t who you are.”

“Fancy saying,” Arthur said, looking down at the ground, trying not to show that he wasn’t used to this, people standing up for him, being angry on his behalf. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Hey, the sentiment’s just as much for me as it is you,” Merlin smiled, and even with his nose bloodied up, it still lit up all of his features. “I’m a two-bit criminal. I’ve gotta reassure myself of my morality somehow.”

“I don’t imagine there’s too many petty crimes in a city like this,” Arthur informed him. “Or even on a planet like this. Outside of punching politicians in the face, of course.”

“Getting them to punch _me_ in the face,” Merlin corrected him with a laugh. “And no, I imagine there’s not. I’m no local.”

“Where are you from?” Arthur asked, and unlike when he asked his clients questions, he genuinely wanted to know the answer. Merlin was an interesting man, so unlike the people he met in day-to-day life.

“Border planet called Athens,” Merlin answered, and Arthur nodded in recognition, remembering it from his studies. “Though I haven’t been there in an awful long time. I captain a ship.”

“ _Really_?”

Now that was something that intrigued Arthur beyond words. He’d never visited much outside of Londinium and Sihnon, never for long and never anywhere outside of the Core. He knew that there were people out there who traveled on ships for extended periods of time, even lived on ships, but never anyone that he had known other than the odd pilot or two, and for them it was merely a day job.

“Yeah,” Merlin said, smile small and fond. “Her name’s Aithusa. Firefly class. Best ship in the ‘verse and my one true love.”

Arthur laughed. “So – what? You just gallivant across the universe committing petty crimes and skipping to the next planet before someone catches you?”

“Story of my life,” Merlin smiled at him. “And it’s a good life at that. Got my ship, got my crew – don’t need much else.”

“Pretty young to be a captain,” Arthur pointed out. Merlin did the best impression of shrug that he could do from his position sprawled on the couch.

“Don’t doubt it,” he said. “What about you? Companion training’s not on this world, is it?”

“Sihnon, just next door,” Arthur informed him. “I’ve…never really been anywhere but Londinium and Sihnon. Osiris, a couple of times. And my sister lives on Persephone. But I don’t go off-world much.”

“Well, I’ve never been, but I hear Sihnon is supposed to be beautiful,” Merlin mentioned. “And probably not at all like the backwater moons where my drops are. I doubt you’d find many Companions in the places I frequent.”

“I’ve heard of Companions who travel,” Arthur said lightly, looking down at his hands, his fingernails digging into his skin, “usually with big, impressive ships. Trying to bring Companionship to the Rim.”

“That’s noble,” Merlin said, and if it were anyone else, Arthur would think it was mocking. But Merlin’s voice was light and amused with no judgment to be found. “Would you ever want to do something like that?”

“I – don’t know,” Arthur answered, but it wasn’t quite honest. He reformulated his answer. “I’d like to see someplace else. Experience other ways of living life. I’ve lived on Londinium for ten years. I…feel a little trapped sometimes.”

Arthur had never articulated that feeling before.

They were quiet for a moment before Merlin moved to sit up, wincing slightly as he did. But when he was sitting, he faced Arthur with bright and genuine blue eyes.

“My ship has two pods. We rent them out to people who want to travel for whatever reason. It’d be more dangerous than flying on some fancy Alliance cruiser, and you’d have to be alright with me and my crew performing some legally questionable activities. But –” he cut off, biting his lip, and then wincing since it had been split in the fight. “– it’s yours if you want it. I’d even knock the first month’s rent off for what you did for me tonight.”

Arthur’s breath stuttered at the idea. Leaving Londinium, leaving the endless stream of politicians visiting his bedchambers, leaving galas and parties and slimy men and snotty women, leaving his demanding and cold father –

Arthur sighed, breath heavy with longing. “I would love to,” he said honestly. “I would really, really love to. But my father is here and he’s – well, he’s very – he – wouldn’t like it much if I left him.”

“I understand,” Merlin said, and he looked almost sad at Arthur’s refusal. Arthur’s heart hammered. That would be a reason to go. He’d known Merlin for mere hours and the man had already treated him with more kindness and respect than Arthur had received from a single person in years. “Your father’s Uther Pendragon, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Arthur told him, before frowning slightly and asking “He’s not the one who hired you for tonight, is he?”

Merlin laughed and shook his head. “No. To be quite honest, I would never take a job from your father. I know enough politics to know that I don’t like him.”

“That’s fair,” Arthur admitted begrudgingly. “I – he’s always wanted me close by. And he’s not too affectionate, so that’s one of the only ways I know he cares about me. Maybe – maybe I could go with you someday. But not right now.”

Merlin looked over at him, his eyes kind. “I hope so.”

They fell silent; Arthur heard a siren outside of his window that was probably headed toward the gala they had departed. That was going to be a headache to deal with tomorrow.

As if reading his mind, Merlin said, “Is Cenred going to give you any trouble?”

Arthur shook his head. “He’s done enough to earn a black mark with the Guild. He’ll never touch another Companion again and the priestesses will be a solid backing for anyone who wants to speak out against him.”

“Good,” Merlin said firmly, before his face grew unsure. “Well, if you ever – if you ever need anything. Some crimes committed or whatnot. A ride off-world. A knight in shining armor.” He laughed. “Well, I think you’ve probably got that last one covered all by yourself. But I’d like to repay you for tonight somehow.”

“You’ve already done that,” Arthur said, surprising himself with the honesty of his words.

Merlin frowned over at him. “I really haven’t.”

“You were kind,” Arthur shrugged, not knowing how to explain what a rarity that kindness was without turning emotional. Merlin’s eyes seemed to understand, though.

“I’ve got a contact on Londinium,” Merlin told him quietly. “Name of Elyan. Up front, he runs a highly respectable blacksmithing shop. If you ever need to get a message to me, he can do it.”

“Thank you,” Arthur told him, diverting his eyes from Merlin’s own to make this parting easier on him.

“Thank _you_ ,” Merlin reached a hand out to shake, and Arthur took it.

* * *

 

Time passed, as it always did. Arthur took clients, went to dinner with his father to have stilted conversations with sullen silences, took more clients, and finally took a few days’ of much needed vacation to visit his sister.

“You look different,” Morgana told him as he followed her through her beaded doorway and into her home. There was, as in every Companion’s home, an ordinary sitting room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, but also a special room just for clients beyond them. He and Morgana elected to sit in her sitting room as she poured him a glass of tea.

“It’s only been four months since I’ve seen you, I can’t possibly look that different,” Arthur said, taking the tea from her outstretched hand.

“I heard from Nimueh that you black-marked a client,” Morgana said, face excited at the possibility of a good story as she raised an eyebrow at Arthur. He just groaned.

“Cenred, right,” he waved a hand off as if it were a forgettable experience. “Smarmy bastard.”

“Well, I hear that the brawl he started resulted in him losing his Parliament seat,” Morgana remarked, to which Arthur nodded, grateful that something positive had come out of that experience. “And that he called you some names I won’t repeat and you wailed on him for it. _Temper_ , Arthur.”

“He deserved it,” Arthur defended himself, not even bothering to mention Merlin. Morgana couldn’t possibly understand what made that night with Merlin so unique. And how much Arthur wished he could see him again.

“See, this is why I never let men anywhere near me,” Morgana made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

“Women are just as bad,” Arthur wasn’t sure why he was defending people like Cenred, but he felt the need to make the point anyway. “They’re just bad in a different kind of way.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Morgana said, lifting a bottle of gin from her countertop and toasting it toward Arthur, who just laughed.

“See, you try to be a proper Companion with your tea-drinking and sweet-talking, but you’re just as bad as I am.”

“You’re not _bad_.” Morgana rolled her eyes. “You just have a bit of a temper problem.”

“Whatever,” Arthur said petulantly, knowing that she spoke the truth.

“You _do_ look different, though,” Morgana returned to her original point with a gesture of the gin bottle. “You look…I don’t know. _Sad._ ”

Arthur shrugged. His fingernails were hard against his skin. “I mean, I’m hardly skipping with joy, but I wouldn’t call myself _sad_.”

“I would,” Morgana crossed her legs, frowning pensively at him. “What’s the matter, Arthur? Really?”

Arthur couldn’t even begin to explain Merlin to her, so he just settled for “I guess I just feel sort of trapped.”

“In what?” Morgana frowned. “In Father’s shadow? That’s why I left for Persephone, you know. It’s close enough for him not to throw a fit, but far away enough for me to live on my own terms. You could do the same.”

“I guess I could,” Arthur said, wondering about Aithusa and where Merlin and his ship had traveled to now. He vaguely wondered if they could be on Persephone, and entertained a two-second fantasy of running into Merlin before shutting it out of his brain.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in love,” Morgana told him conspiratorially, with a smirk heavy on her face. Arthur gave her a dirty look, snorting in derision at the idea.

“ _That’s_ hardly the case.”

“Careful,” Morgana waved a taunting, teasing finger at him that let Arthur know she really wasn’t serious about this train of thought, and it left him more relieved than he should be. “You hardly want to fall in love with client. You might become kept, and then where would you be?”

“Another cage,” Arthur reached forward for Morgana’s gin bottle and took a swig. Kept was a slang term from his days in Companion training, a derogatory word for Companions who quit their work to marry one of their clients. Hardly anyone would hire a former Companion for any other kind of work, so they would be completely dependent on their spouse for the rest of their life.

It was a life that no Companion ever wanted for themselves.

“Well, just be careful, little brother,” Morgana raised an impertinent eyebrow. “We hardly want Cenred Slate to make an honest man out of you.”

Arthur made a retching sound in the back of his throat. “You’re officially banned from speaking ever again.”

Morgana laughed and the subject was changed, but that night as Arthur filtered through waves he’d gotten on the Cortex from potential clients, he came across a picture that made him stop.

A boy from Londinium who had black curly hair, slighter stature, and a smile that lit up his face. He didn’t look exactly like Merlin; Merlin’s features were leaner, sharper around the edges, his hair cut shorter and his stubble grown out longer. This boy, Mordred, still had baby fat around his face, was maybe seven or eight years Merlin’s junior – but if he squinted, Arthur could almost pretend.

He thought back on Morgana’s words.

And accepted Mordred’s request anyway.

* * *

 

When Arthur arrived home from Persephone, he figured it would only be polite to stop by his father’s to tell him how Morgana was doing, since she rarely gave him updates herself. He knocked on the door to his father’s sprawling mansion just outside of the city, but there was no answer.

 Arthur figured he was still in his quarters in Parliament and let himself inside to wait, figuring that as long as Uther showed up before Arthur had to meet Mordred, he could have a quick, perfunctory conversation that could be put solidly within the category of interactions with Uther called ‘Efforts’ and he could go to sleep easily that night.

He sat in one of Uther’s far too uncomfortable and ornate chairs in his sitting room to stretch his leg out and move his knee, which was crackling with pain after the long trip back from Persephone. He picked up his portable Cortex and swiped through some clients, not accepting or rejecting any of them yet, but just passing time.

After an hour, he started getting antsy. His father was usually home by now; he’d had dinner with him enough to know. Arthur finally arose and logged into his father’s own Cortex, the password still memorized from when he was a child. No one else was ever allowed in his house, so Uther hadn’t bothered to change it.

Arthur clicked through some Uther’s messages and reminders, trying to see if he could find a meeting that was set for today, or correspondence that Uther had sent from the office.

When he was clicking through Uther’s mail was when Arthur discovered something that made his eyes narrow. It was a folder labeled ‘ARTHUR – SEC CAM’, which Arthur could only assume was short for security camera. The title was hardly ambiguous, yet Arthur could hardly guess what he and a security camera could have in common.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to guess. The page opened for him immediately, and Arthur’s stomach sank, his mind running wild as he wished that he was still left guessing.

Hours upon hours of footage – the security footage from Arthur’s home, his Companion chambers where he took all of his clients. Arthur knew perfectly well that cameras recorded all throughout the city, but private residences were only tapped if the person was living under suspicion. Arthur had _never_ done anything to warrant suspicion in the government’s eyes, and even then the footage would have gone to the Department of Security, not Uther’s home Cortex.

Ideas ran rampant in Arthur’s mind as to what the truth was before he finally settled on the most likely option.

Uther had installed the camera himself.

But _why_?

That didn’t take him long to figure out either, once he rummaged through the videos. There was only one thing they all had in common – these were all of Arthur’s clients who had some kind of political affiliation. Whether they were a bureaucrat, a Member of Parliament, or even just a child of someone with any kind of sway, they were in Uther’s archive.

And they dated all the way back to ten years previously, all the way back to when Arthur had registered with the Guild and moved back home.

Arthur swallowed thickly and thought of all of the times Uther had told him he wanted him near, wanted him close; wanted him next to him. Arthur thought he’d done it out of love, but Uther never performed any action without an ulterior motive.

He’d been using Arthur all his life.

“Arthur,” his father’s voice echoed from behind him, sounding almost pleasant, and it made Arthur’s stomach roil in sickness. “What are you –”

Arthur turned to face him, and his expression must have given away, for Uther’s words died as he looked between Arthur and the Cortex.

“Arthur,” Uther said, still sounding all too pleasant, face and voice equally mild as he held out a peaceful hand. “Let me explain.”

“I don’t think you need to,” Arthur said with a mirthless laugh, still shaking his head in shock. “I think I can put this together for myself.”

“I only did it for your best interest,” Uther tried to reassure him, but was utterly failing in Arthur’s opinion. His heart hardened from the moment Uther walked in the doors. “And the interest of the Alliance.”

“No,” Arthur corrected him sharply. “You did it for _your_ best interest, Father.”

“Don’t tell me my own motivations,” Uther said, frosty for the first time that evening, eyes turning colder and harder before him, posture tightening to defensiveness.

“I don’t need to tell you, they’re perfectly clear,” Arthur said, and then he realized something, something he should have realized a long time ago. “I…I have to leave.”

“I’m sorry?” Uther’s face was a mix between anger and apology, but Arthur had known his father long enough to know which side would win.

“I have to leave,” Arthur repeated, growing firmer in his belief with the reiteration. “I can’t stay here and be your puppet, Father. I can’t have you keep using me like this.”

He made a move to brush past his father and out of the house, but his Father stopped him with a hand to his chest. “And where do you think you could possibly go? A Companion’s work is hardly _worth_ anything, you know. At least here, you’re helping a greater cause.”

“I’m really not,” Arthur bit back, and Uther couldn’t have looked more enraged if Arthur had spat in his face.

“If you report me, I’ll find a way to discredit you,” Uther hissed in his direction any hope of reconciliation flooded away from Arthur’s mind.

“If that’s all you’re worried about, then fine,” Arthur spit, words hard in his throat. “I’ll save your precious reputation. It’s clearly more important to you than your own son.”

Arthur knocked shoulders with his father on the way out there, swearing to himself that it would be the last time his father ever touched him.

* * *

 

At least there was one thing he had going for him, Arthur thought as he pulled his jacket more tightly around him as the wind blew down the city streets.

He did have options.

All of them would take time, and there was no part of Arthur that wanted to step into his home, carefully catalogued by his father’s manipulation, ever again. He’d hire someone to move things for him once he knew where he was going. His bank accounts were through the Guild, so Uther couldn’t touch them if he wanted to.

So he had money, but no place to stay, and a decision to make.

He could go to Sihnon, back to his old temple. He was a man, so they’d never let him lead a house; however, sometimes former students would stop by as guests and teach particular lessons. Arthur could go teach the next generation of Companions fencing or marksmanship while he figured out what to do.

He could go to Morgana on Persephone, of course; she would take him in in a heartbeat, full of rage at what Uther had done. He could stay in her home until he found living quarters on that planet.

Or he could find Elyan the blacksmith and tell him to get a message to Merlin.

It was the riskiest of his options, the one least likely to come through for him. Merlin might be worlds away, or maybe it had been so long that he didn’t want Arthur anymore. Or never wanted him in the first place. Arthur could have imagined his kindness; Merlin could be the type of man who wanted to use him, either his power and influence or his body.

And the worst part was that Arthur liked him enough that he’d probably let him.

But those worries weren’t founded in reality; Arthur knew that Merlin’s offer had been genuine. It didn’t mean there wouldn’t still be complications, but –

He had to try.

* * *

 

It was nearly dusk by the time Arthur arrived at the Alliance Forge. He was meeting Mordred in an hour, so he hoped that Elyan wouldn’t ask too many questions. Arthur had already sent Mordred a wave to change the location of their rendezvous to where the boy lived; Nimueh would shudder if she knew Arthur was breaking protocol like that, but thankfully, she wasn’t here to pester him.

Despite the fact that the smith was in the center of town and looked perfectly respectable, Arthur was shocked at the caliber of the swords on display when he walked in the door. They were beautiful, the metal smooth and glinting in the light. Arthur picked the top one up off the shelf and found it was weighted perfectly. He moved it through the air with grace and ease.

“Can I help you?”

A man stood at the counter ten feet or so from Arthur. He hadn’t been there when Arthur arrived, but now he was staring at Arthur intently, eyes sharp and measured. Despite the fact that he was a good deal shorter and smaller than Arthur, he had the feeling the man would be tough to grapple with in a fight.

“It’s a gorgeous sword,” Arthur told the man completely genuinely. “I’ve never seen one so high-quality. I’ve lived on Sihnon for years and they never came close to having such a beautiful weapon.”

The man cocked his head. “You’re a Companion.”

“So you know my compliment means something,” Arthur said, setting the sword gingerly back in its case. He took a few strides forward until only the counter separated him from the other man. “I’m looking for someone named Elyan. Would that be you?”

“Depends who’s asking,” the man said, his eyes flickering in amusement in a way that made Arthur think that Elyan was definitely standing in front of him. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to send a message,” Arthur said quietly, and the amusement in Elyan’s eyes died instantly, his mouth becoming a hard set line.

“Not the hours for that,” Elyan’s words were short and clipped, dark eyes intent as they darted across the room. There were probably cameras in here, Arthur had already known, but he had been vague enough about his intentions. “Follow me into the storeroom,” he said louder. “I might have what you’re looking for.”

He turned sharply, opening a door behind the counter, and Arthur quickly followed suit. Elyan led him into what was truthfully a storage room, shining swords and armor littering the square brown box of a room.

“Look, man,” Elyan whirled around when they were out of view of the main shop. “Are you new or something? I don’t do Underworld shit when my shop’s open. This is a respectable place, you got that? What’s a gorram Companion doing here anyway? You a spy for the Alliance?”

“What? No,” Arthur said quickly. “I’m really just looking to send someone a message.”

“Yeah?” Elyan asked; his eyebrow rose challengingly. “Who?”

“First name’s Merlin, I don’t know his last name,” Arthur explained, but Elyan’s face changed the second he said ‘Merlin’ from one of anger and distrust to one of resigned acceptance.

“That’d be Merlin Emrys,” Elyan said begrudgingly after a moment.

“Captain of Aithusa,” Arthur nodded in assent and Elyan sighed.

“Well, I’m not surprised. Merlin’s always making my life more complicated. Alright, what’s your message, Companion?”

“Tell him…” Arthur hesitated for a moment, wondering over what frequency his message would be sent, if security would see it, if his father could possibly have any access to it. Arthur had thanked every God there was that Uther’s tapes had only been within his Companion’s room and not his sitting room where he and Merlin had spoken.  He hoped that Uther hadn’t seen that. “Tell him the man who patched up his bloody nose is wondering if his offer still stands.”

Elyan blinked at him a couple of times before brushing it off with a chuckle. “Well, Companion. Good luck with your offer. I’ll to my best to get Merlin the message quick as I can.”

“Do I…need to pay you, or…?”

“No,” Elyan said with an exasperated eye roll. “Anything regarding Merlin is always paid up.”

Arthur frowned, unfamiliar with how the criminal Underworld worked, but knowing that payment was just as important to that culture as it was to his. “Can I ask why?”

“Because Merlin and his band of misfits inspire goodwill among all men,” Elyan deadpanned with another eye roll. “Word of the wise, Companion – everything with Merlin is always more complicated than it looks.”

Arthur really hoped not, but just smiled and said “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Stop by tomorrow around noon,” Elyan told him, already heading back toward the main shop. “Hopefully I’ll have some news for you. But either way, to save face, I’ll give you a very good dagger for a very good cost.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

* * *

 

Arthur broke Companion protocol by spending the night at Mordred’s; Companions almost always stayed after the sex was finished, but never for the night. He figured that this constituted as an emergency and he could be forgiven for the protocol breaks.

He received six waves from his father, all of which he deleted on sight.

He made it back to Elyan’s shop just before the noontime sun hit, and the man was carefully cleaning one his swords when Arthur arrived. His eyes flickered up toward Arthur in recognition.

“Good. You’re here.” He set his sword back in the shelf as he strode toward Arthur. “It’s my lunch break. Take a walk with me, will you?”

Arthur followed Elyan out of the shop and into the bustling city street. They ducked through the crowd for a few moments before Elyan stopped next to a darkened alley.

“This shouldn’t be watched,” he muttered, jerking his head into the darkness and Arthur followed him. First, Elyan handed him a brown paper back. Arthur looked inside to find that Elyan was true to his word, and a beautiful dagger lay within it.

“Thank you,” he told him.

Elyan shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet. I got a message back from Merlin. Luckily – or unluckily – for you, he’s fueling at Persephone and is only a two day trip away.”

Arthur’s breath stuttered in his throat. Though the words were not said, the message really made it sound like Merlin still wanted him. He cleared his throat to keep from sounding breathless. “Alright, then.”

“He says to meet him at the address I wrote on the inside of that bag,” Elyan nodded toward the dagger. “And be careful and make sure no one follows you when you go, because if Merlin’s caught there, it’ll get traced back to me and there’ll be no way I’ll get out of that one.”

“Okay,” Arthur nodded, adrenaline coursing through him.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Elyan caught his arm and gazed at him intently. “I’m guessing you don’t know Merlin too well.” Arthur shook his head. “Well, when I talked to him last night, he sounded _happy_. Merlin really doesn’t get too joyful, especially not about jobs or drops. And when Merlin’s enthusiastic about something, it usually spells danger. Watch your back.”

Arthur looked down at his hands, preoccupied with the idea that Merlin would be happy to see him. “Thanks for everything,” he said aloud, shaking Elyan’s hand.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Elyan said. “Oh, and another thing. Since Merlin’s coming on-world to the least criminal-friendly planet in the ‘verse, I assume you’ll be meeting his crew. And my sister’s on his crew, Companion. If I find out that you touched a hair on her head…”

Arthur blinked, alarmed at the idea. “That’s…really not how Companionship works. I don’t just go around seducing people.”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Elyan blinked at him menacingly, and Arthur was struck again with the idea that he would not be a fun man to get into fisticuffs with. “Anyway. Good luck.”

“I get the feeling I’ll need it,” Arthur said, looking down at the address scrawled on the paper bag, anticipation thudding in his chest.

* * *

 

Much like the previous night, Arthur broke protocol the following two days by staying with clients. The first was the daughter of a well-to-do politician, the second the ex-wife of one. Both of them were just looking to be told they were lovely and beautiful and deserved better than they had, which were easy words to say when Arthur was only half-there.

He had his things shipped to Morgana; he sent her a wave, but didn’t explain the specifics of why he was leaving or what he was doing. He’d explain when he saw her next. She’d be cross at him, but what else was new?

He sent a note to Nimueh as well, so she could put in the Guild records that he was no longer based on Londinium and would instead be traveling. She’d also demand an explanation eventually, but she was more easily avoidable than his sister.

The address Elyan had gave him was a ship dock forty miles from the city, and according to the Cortex, it had been abandoned during the Unification War and was in disuse. It probably made it the perfect place for criminals to land, but Elyan was right; it was risky to travel there in case of exposure.

Arthur settled for hiring a transport vehicle to take him within five miles of the place, and then he walked the rest of the way. The exercise was good for him, and he’d done all kinds of endurance training back when he was training to become a soldier.

He arrived at the landing sight mid-morning, before the sun rose to high in the sky, and the sight of the ship in the landing dock, slightly obscured by the mountain nearby, took his breath away.

The ship wasn’t beautiful, not by any means. It was junky compared to some the ships Arthur had flown on, small and painted a golden metallic color that was anything but easy on the eyes. The bay was open, leading to a darkened interior, and Arthur knew instinctively that the inside wasn’t any prettier. And yet when Arthur saw it, he didn’t see it for its beauty, but the opportunity for freedom that it could bring.

“Arthur!”

A figure stepped out of the ship’s interior, but Arthur had already recognized Merlin’s voice. He looked very much the same, his smile bright and beaming, though instead of wearing the typical garb of a Londinium politician as he had been the night Arthur met him, he wore an overlarge brown overcoat over a blue-button down, a red scarf tied haphazard around his neck.

“Merlin,” Arthur smiled in greeting and was about to speak again, but when Merlin reached where he stood, he pulled Arthur into a hug.

Surprised, Arthur’s arms went around Merlin in the next instant. Merlin was warm against him; though the hug didn’t last long, it was tight. Elyan had been right; Merlin really was happy to see him. Arthur bit his lip to keep from smiling too brightly.

It was only when Merlin broke away from him that Arthur noticed another man standing behind him. He looked about their age, with dark curly hair like Merlin’s, but his skin was tanned. He shorter but well-built, with classic features that Arthur wouldn’t have found out of place on Sihnon. The man clearly wasn’t a part of Sihnon culture, however; he was wearing a brown jacket fashioned in the same style as Merlin’s, though it fit him more tightly.

“Arthur, this is my first mate, Lance,” Merlin introduced the other man quickly, waving a hand behind him.

Lance smiled at him and reached a hand out to shake, which Arthur took. His touch was firm and steady, and his smile was just as genuine as Merlin’s.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Lance drawled , his accent clearly indicative of the Rim world planets.

“You as well,” Arthur told him.

“You got anything with you?” Lance asked, but Arthur shook his head.

“Just this,” he told him, lifting the small leather bag off of his shoulder. “Some clothes and a payment for you. Elyan implied that discretion was key, so I had my things shipped to my sister on Persephone. I figured you would need to go back there eventually to fuel.”

“Smart man,” Lance nodded appreciatorily, and Merlin reached over to clap him on the back, his touch light but firm as he grinned over at Lance.

“Come aboard, then. Sooner we get off this Alliance-infested rock, the better.”

“I could have met you somewhere else,” Arthur said as he followed Merlin and Lance up the bridge and onto the ship.

“This was faster,” Merlin waved a noncommittal hand, clearly telling him not to worry.

“Are you sure no one followed you?” Lance was clearly a bit more concerned, his glance flickering between Arthur and the terrain behind them.

“Walked for five miles to get here, and I’d already been off the radar for a few days,” Arthur shrugged. “Someone would have had to work pretty hard to follow me, and no one really cares much when a Companion vanishes. There’s a planet crawling with them.”

Merlin stopped ahead of him, and Arthur was treated to a glimpse of what was clearly a cargo bay, boxes piled up on either side of the ship, a rusty staircase meters ahead of them. It wasn’t much; ships like this were hardly fancy, but it still made Arthur feel warm inside.

“Welcome to Aithusa,” Merlin clearly saw even more than what Arthur did, his smile softening around the edges as he regarded his ship. “She don’t look like much, but wait ‘til she gets flyin’.”

“She looks wonderful,” Arthur told him entirely truthfully, and Merlin flashed him a beaming smile.

“What made you change your mind about comin’ aboard with us?” Lance asked him, though his voice wasn’t heavy with judgment, just curiosity. “Last I heard, Merlin met some hooker with a heart of gold who wasn’t gonna let nobody save him.”

Arthur felt heat rising to his cheeks as Merlin turned around, hand resting lightly on the staircase, his own blush evident on his cheeks. “I did not use those words,” Merlin reassured Arthur before glaring at Lance, though it was hardly threatening.

Lane just shrugged. “I can pick up implications. Besides, you’ll have to introduce him to Gwaine eventually. His words won’t be minced nearly as nice as mine.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but it was clear that his thoughts on this Gwaine character clearly matched Lance’s. “My crew is made up of lovely people, really,” he told Arthur. “Gwaine’s just a tad on the vulgar side. Don’t worry, it’s not because of you, it’s just how he is every day. The others’ll be more polite.”

“Just grateful to be here,” Arthur smiled, but it felt more forced as more anxiety built up in his chest. He wondered what his arrangement here would be; he knew he’d be taking clients on the worlds that Aithusa traveled to, but he’d never considered Merlin’s crew and if they would be as kind as he had been, or worse, if he would be expected to service them in payment for being here.

Arthur hoped that this ship was all he’d been looking for; if it wasn’t, he could get off at Persephone and go to Morgana, but the idea of Aithusa not being the shining beacon of hope that Arthur had prayed it was would be a painful awakening.

“This is the dining hall,” Merlin said, opening the door above the staircase, leading Arthur and Lance into a cozy room painted in browns, a large table taking up the main space while kitchen utensils littered either side. “We don’t eat as fancy as you do, I’m sure. Lots of protein bars. We try to splurge on a good dinner every once in a while, but it’s hardly commonplace.”

He looked a bit apologetic, so Arthur quickly reminded him “I know what I’m getting into by flying here, at least in terms of amenities. I’m not about to throw a fit because I don’t have fresh vegetables.”

“What did I tell you?” Merlin cast a sideways look at Lance. “He ain’t gonna be no trouble.”

Lance put his hands up in mock defense. “You were the one who met him, Merlin. I just expressed worries at a Companion not being able to handle what we do.” He gave a look of apology to Arthur. “Now that I know him, seems like a good man. Sorry about any insinuations I make, Arthur, I just don’t like takin’ chances. Merlin here lives for it.”

Merlin and Lance had known each other for a long time; it was evident to Arthur as he saw them exchange looks of disagreement, but not anger. They could question each other and argue about anything and still be friends when it was done. Though Arthur wondered why Merlin wasn’t just telling Lance to stuff it since he was the captain, Arthur figured that his being allowed to be here was Merlin’s victory on its own.

“Ooh, is this the Companion?” A girl’s voice called, and a head poked into the dining hall from another doorway. A curly-haired woman with dark eyes and a white grin entered the room. Her face was beautiful enough to be at any of Londinium’s fanciest galas, with its soft and full features, but her clothing would have been hugely out of place. She was wearing a grease-stained blue jumpsuit, a streak of dust on her face, but she still carried herself with grace and poise.

“I’m Gwen,” she beamed at him, sticking her hand out to shake. Arthur took it, bemused at a woman who seemed so much a conundrum. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, Arthur. I love meetin’ new people, and we ain’t taken on passengers in a _ges_.”

“Are you Elyan’s sister?” Arthur asked her, seeing the family resemblance. Their eyes and noses were very similar, though Gwen seemed to be much more cheerful.

“That’s me,” she said with a grin before turning toward the door.

“Gwen’s the ship’s mechanic,” Merlin explained as he pulled out a seat at the dining table, looking between Arthur and Gwen with a small but bright smile.

 “Leon, c’mere!” Gwen called toward the doorway as footsteps rattled the floor. “Merlin’s Companion’s here!”

“I should hope so,” a disgruntled voice came from just outside the doorway. “I had to avoid six Alliance troopers to land here safely, and I’m sure they’ll all still be there on the way back.”

A man, Leon apparently, came in the doorway to place an arm around Gwen’s shoulders. Easily the tallest man in the room, he had long, ginger hair that curled at his neck and a beard to match. His face was mild and interested as he shook Arthur’s hand.

“Good to meet you, Arthur,” Leon said with a friendly tone. “My name’s Leon, I pilot Aithusa. I haven’t seen a Companion in years. We don’t get a lot of them out in the regions we travel. Gwaine, of course, wanted us to hire one the last night we were on Londinium when Merlin was working the Cenred Slate job where he met you. Thankfully, Lance was able to stop him from doing anything monumentally stupid.”

“Hey, the world’s all about second chances,” a new voice drawled from the door on the other side of the hall, and another man entered, this one with brown wavy hair that fell at his shoulders with stubble a bit longer than Merlin’s. A monstrous gun was very clearly strapped to one of his sides. “Hey, gorgeous, I’m Gwaine. How much dough do I gotta cough up to get a night with you?”

Merlin was on his feet so quickly that Arthur almost missed it, but within what seemed like the next second, he was at Gwaine’s side, a fist buried in the other man’s long hair as he yanked it backwards, the smile on his face becoming a hard set line.

“What the hell, Emrys?” Gwaine yelped, trying to pull free, but then relaxing when it became evident Merlin wasn’t planning on letting him go. “It was an honest question.”

“Yes, and if you ever ask it again, I will rip your lovely, precious hair out,” Merlin said, voice measured and mild, a direct contrast to Gwaine’s horrified glance up at him. Arthur heard Gwen snort from next to him; Lance and Leon were clearly amused with this situation as well from the smiles they were trying to hide.

“You wouldn’t,” Gwaine said.

“I _would_ ,” Merlin said pleasantly, and Arthur was struck with the idea that Merlin wasn’t actually threatening to hurt Gwaine, that he was fond as he threated something as simple as Gwaine’s hair. Arthur had no doubt that Merlin was serious about cutting Gwaine’s hair off, but he’d never go as far to shoot him or kill him. Gwaine was his friend – and yet Merlin was still standing up for Arthur, a man he’d met twice.

“In fact,” Merlin said, looking up from Gwaine but still keeping a hand firm on his head in case of escape. “New rule. None of you are allowed to hire Arthur for his services. Not today, not ever.” He shot an apologetic look toward Arthur. “I mean, you can sleep with anyone you want, but I know what I pay them. They can’t afford your rates.”

Arthur’s worries about being beholden to Merlin’s crew immediately evaporated, and he looked at Merlin curiously. “Companions choose their own clients anyway,” he said, voice measured, trying not to give away how grateful he was that he wouldn’t be paying his way with sex. “And you have to be a registered with the Guild in order to request my services. I’m willing to bet a boat full of criminals hasn’t taken the time to purchase a Guild membership.”

Merlin laughed as he finally let go of Gwaine’s hair. Gwaine glared up at him, massaging his scalp, but again, there was no true anger in his eyes, just annoyance.

This crew must really like each other, Arthur realized.

“I’m insulted that you’d think anyone but Gwaine would be rude enough to expect that from our _guest_ ,” Gwen said, giving Gwaine a dirty look as she did so before turning back to Arthur with a pleasant smile. “You have nothing to worry about from the rest of us, I promise. I’m married to Leon, and Lance is far too proper to ever even consider hiring you.”

“You’re married?” Arthur asked, eyes flickering between her and Leon. The arm around her shoulder made more sense, but Elyan’s comment made a lot less. “Your brother made it seem like…”

“Like what?” Gwen asked, an eyebrow raised, hardness entering her voice for the first time.

“He just told me to stay away from you, that’s all,” Arthur diverted his eyes, not wanting draw negative attention toward himself. Gwen, however, just sighed amusedly, annoyance flickering in her eyes.

“That archaic bastard,” she said cheerfully. “We’re not getting him a birthday gift this year.”

“Shouldn’t Gaius be around for this new Companion rule? Get told the same as the rest of us that he ain’t allowed to touch the merchandise?” Gwaine interrupted grouchily as he threw himself with great dramatis into the chair Merlin had abandoned. The comment caused the rest of the crew to chuckle, but Arthur just blinked in confusion.

“Gaius is my seventy-year-old godfather, and the ship’s medic,” Merlin explained to Arthur, noting his lost look. “If I ever tried to lecture him on not hiring a Companion, I think he’d be so insulted that he’d never speak to me again. I’ll introduce you later. Leon, let’s get this boat in the air. I want to be off-planet by the time the three o’clock patrols start.”

“On it,” Leon said, waving a hand toward Arthur as he left the room. “Nice meeting you, Arthur.”

“Surely the rest of you have responsibilities to be getting on with,” Merlin spoke before Arthur could respond to Leon. “I’ll show you your quarters and introduce you to Gaius, Arthur.”

Arthur nodded as the crew dispersed around them, Gwen and Lance chatting happily as they exited together and Gwaine shooting Merlin one last dirty look before banging out the way he came in.

“Sorry about them,” Merlin said, standing and beckoning Arthur’s toward the dining hall’s door on the left. They exited into a narrow hallway; Merlin turned left and Arthur followed. “They’re all good people and I love them more than anything in the world, but they can be a little much, Gwaine especially. Try not to be offended by him; he’s just jealous because he considers himself the world’s most perfect lover and now he has some direct competition.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” Arthur told him shortly, purposefully not articulating just how much worse. “They all seem like decent people. For criminals,” he added jokingly. He worried Merlin would be offended, but Merlin just snorted.

“We’re quite lovely for criminals,” Merlin pointed out as he opened the door the hallway led down and ushered Arthur inside. It was a small shuttle, one that could detach from the ship, with two sparsely decorated rooms. A bed lay in one of them, and a couch and a chair occupied the other.

“It’s not much,” Merlin turned to him apologetically, “compared to what you’re used to –”

“Merlin,” Arthur cut him off with a smile. “Really. I _am_ capable of living outside the lap of luxury. And it won’t look so barren after I get my things.”

“Right, yeah,” Merlin blushed, looking away for a moment before meeting Arthur’s eyes again, and the businesslike manner disappeared from them entirely. “I’m glad you changed your mind, Arthur.”

“I’m glad you still wanted me,” Arthur said, before quickly adding, “to be here.”

“Lance asked earlier, but you never answered,” Merlin said, a look of concern evident on his face as he studied Arthur. “What did make you change your mind?”

Arthur hesitated, knowing that he couldn’t explain how much his father’s betrayal hurt, how he’d spent all of his life wanting to win his father’s love, and the one thing he thought was a showing of that love was nothing more than an elaborately fabricated lie.

“I was staying for my father,” Arthur told him truthfully. “And as it turned out, my father is not the man that I believed he was.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, and he had a look in his eyes that made Arthur think he was about to say something else, but the look disappeared in an instant, his arm falling lax as it disappeared. “But I really am glad that you’re here.”

“Me too,” Arthur said, trying to convey just how much.

* * *

 

Arthur received a tour of the ship next. He’d already seen the dining hall, but he was shown which hallways connected which rooms, where the crew’s rooms were, the engine room, the bridge where Leon gave them a wave as he piloted the ship past the Alliance patrols with grace and expertise. The ship was rocky while it was in the air, but once they were out of the planet’s orbit, Arthur found it easy enough to manage keeping his balance.

“And this is the medic’s bay,” Merlin led him down the final flight of stairs, gesturing toward a room that, for a change, wasn’t decorated in shades of brown. It was a sterile grey and white, with a bed in the center and supplies on each side. An elderly man sat in a chair next to the bed, long white hair shining in the room’s harsh light. His face was wrinkled beyond belief, but when he looked up, his eyes were steady and present.

“Gaius, put down your book and say hello,” Merlin called to him as he led Arthur inside the medical bay. “This is Arthur. I told you about him, remember?”

“I do remember, thank you,” Gaius raised a judgmental eyebrow in Merlin’s direction and Arthur felt a bit smaller. Elderly folks tended to be the harshest judges of people in his line of work and Gaius definitely constituted as one. However, when he turned to Arthur, the judgment flickered away. “It’s very nice to meet you, Arthur. At least now I can put a face to the name that _this_ boy’s been prattling about for the past three months.”

He jerked his head in Merlin’s direction with a fond roll of his eyes and once again Arthur was struck with the fact that any rude comment was never taken seriously by anyone on the crew.

It reminded him of the way he and Morgana talked to one another; this crew was a family.

“I have not been _prattling,_ Gaius,” Merlin said sharply, but without any bite. “Your brain must be misremembering in its old age.”

Gaius snorted. “I’ll let you know when my brain starts slowing down. Right now it’s still sharp as a tack and you’re not clever enough to fool anyone.”

“I’m the cleverest person you know,” Merlin argued halfheartedly, a smile twitching at his lips all the same.

“Cap’n!” Gwen appeared in the doorway, another smudge of dirt on her face, a relic of the engine room that she frequented. “Leon’s on-course for Dangun. Wanted to know if we were going to the Rim after that so that he could calculate fuel percentages.”

“Our job on Dangun’ll take two days at most,” Merlin told her, tone switching back to one of a captain. “We got a drop on Greenleaf after that, so not as far as the Rim, but from the sounds of it, Perce has a real good job for us out yonder once he gets the specifics.”

“Shiny,” Gwen said brightly before turning to Arthur. “Perce is on Persephone, so we can get your things from there.”

“And Dangun and Greenleaf are both well-to-do types of places, not backwater enough that there’ll be slim pickins for your clientele,” Merlin told him. “I’ll give you our landing sites later.”

“And worry not, Merlin, Lance, and Gwaine’ll be the only folks out there on the drops,” Gwen told him brightly, “so if you can’t get a client ‘til you get your fancies, you can spend the day with me. I’ve decided that I _am_ going to get Elyan a birthday present after all. Something ugly, that smells. You can help me pick it out. Gaius, you’re welcome to join us as well.”

Gaius rolled his eyes fondly in Gwen’s direction but nodded in assent to her plan. Arthur was surprised at her kindness and willingness to include someone like him in her day-to-day life. People tended not to make friends with Companions on Londinium. They were respectable to be seen with, but only if you paid for them.

“Companion protocol says I need to set up my chamber first,” Arthur told her. “I’ve let the rules slide in the past, but it’d probably be best if I didn’t invite clients into a completely barren bedroom. Besides, I won’t need the money for a bit.”

He reached into his pocket to dig out the small bag of gold he’d taken from his bank account to cover the cost of living here. He’d withdraw more once he got to Persephone, but he hardly wanted to arise suspicion when he left Londinium. He tossed the bag to Merlin, who caught it with a bemused look on his face.

“That’ll cover my first three months,” he said, but Merlin cut him off with a shake of his head.

“First four,” he corrected. “I told you I’d cover your first month.”

“Ain’t that sweet of you, Merlin,” Gwen smiled brightly at him, bouncing up on the balls of her feet. “Why ain’t you ever this nice to the rest of us?”

“I’m nice to you,” Merlin defended himself with a mock affronted look on his face. “I bought a…a…a _thing._ When we were on Boros last. A real pretty thing it was too, I’ll have you know –”

A thought that made Arthur frown occurred to him as the rest of Merlin’s speech blurred from his mind. Something didn’t make sense; Arthur didn’t like things that made no sense.

“Your English,” he said to Merlin with a slight frown. “When I met you, it was near-perfect. I didn’t think there was anything amiss about that at the time, but now…I mean, you slip in and out of it. It was perfect while we were alone, but you keep slipping into an accent.”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but Gwen beat him to it. “Merlin doesn’t like showing off ‘round the rest of us common folk.”

“You’re not highborn, are you?” Arthur squinted at Merlin, remembering that he’d said he was from Athens the night they met. Farm country. Farmers weren’t highborn.

Merlin just shrugged modestly. “Not by any means. I just had an excellent grammar tutor.”

“Me,” Gaius snorted from behind him and Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Sure, you can take credit if you really want it, Gaius.”

“A well-educated petty crook, huh?” Arthur bit his lip, smiling; Merlin just grinned back at him.

“I’m quite a mystery, ain’t I?”

* * *

 

The marketplace on Dangun turned out to be filled with all kinds of interestingly scented merchandise. Arthur helped Gwen pick out something that looked like a piece of horse dung but that Gaius said was rumored to have medicinal properties. Gwen, however, declared sufficiently smelly.

“I won’t even wait for his birthday,” Gwen chattered happily to Arthur as they headed back to the ship. This had been Arthur’s first experience on a planet outside the Core, and Gwen had delighted in showing him around the place, spitting off random facts about a friend of a friend’s cousin’s brother who lived here. Arthur had never met someone so enthusiastic. “I’ll send it to him when we get back to Persephone. With a lovely little note that’ll tell him what I think of him.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow at her, to which Gwen just sighed, giving Gaius a knowing look. “I still love him. I’m just cross with him.”

Gaius’s look didn’t become any less judgmental, so Gwen brandished the bag, still emitting an odor not unlike a skunk, in his direction. “Would you rather I give it to you?”

The light teasing accompanied them all the way back to the ship, where Leon was sitting outside the ship’s opening in a foldable chair, soaking in the sun rays of the sunny desert area.

“Good day?” He asked as his wife came forward to peck his cheek. He wrinkled his nose as he glanced down at the bag in her hands. “What on earth is that smell?”

“Elyan’s special surprise,” Gwen told him cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I’m storing it in Gwaine’s room until we get to Persephone. He won’t even notice the difference.”

“No, but he might eat it by accident,” Leon muttered, but his look was amused. Arthur very nearly let out a laugh at the comment.

“How was your day of guard duty?” Gwen asked him and he waved a hand out in front of the barren landscape in front of them.

“Haven’t seen a living soul all day. But as long as the others are back before dusk we should be able to take off for Greenleaf before nightfall.”

Gaius snorted quietly. “We got out of the Core far too easily, especially for being on Londinium. Karma will come for us shortly.”

“Stop being so negative!” Gwen smiled over at Gaius. “I think that Arthur’s brought us good luck.”

She smiled charmingly at him and Arthur stared at his hands. He had never met a woman like Gwen before; most of the women on Sihnon and Londinium were rich, affluent snots that looked down upon the world before them. It was rare to see a woman who was so seamlessly beautiful that didn’t mind wearing a jumpsuit and having dirty on her face, and had a husband who loved her because of it.

He’d never seen a marriage like Gwen and Leon’s either, just husbands and wives who married for political reasons, could barely tolerate one another, only married for beauty or fame. Gwen and Leon showed loved toward one another because they were in love, a concept entirely foreign to Arthur.

Aithusa and her crew were certainly different; maybe the kind of different that Arthur had been looking for.

“Got a wave from Merlin,” Leon frowned, sitting up straighter as he looked down at the portable Cortex in his hand, face contorting in a grimace. “ _Fei-oo_. The goods have been imprinted by the Alliance.”

Even Arthur, who had been on board for exactly two days, winced at that bit of news. A criminal ship could hardly be seen with governmental goods.

Gwen bit her lip anxiously. “That ain’t a pretty picture.”

“Perce is a good trader, he’ll still give payment, but not nearly as much, and if we’re caught with the goods…”

“It’s five days ‘til we can reach Greenleaf, ain’t it?” Gwen ran a finger through her tangled hair. “And then another week back to Persephone…”

“We’ll just have to be mighty careful,” Leon sighed, squeezing his eyes closed. “Damn. Guess you were right about our luck going sour, Gaius. Let’s get on board,” he said, standing up. “Merlin’s fifteen minutes out. Gwen, you stay to help them load the cargo. Arthur, hate to ask, but d’you mind helping out? Can’t have anyone seeing the goods, so the faster we go the better.”

“Of course,” Arthur answered immediately. He’d known what he was getting into traveling here; though he’d hardly planned on participating in criminal activities himself, it would be ungrateful not to help the crew when they needed it.

“I’ll get the ship ready to go; c’mon Gaius.” Leon helped the other man up the stairs, leaving Arthur and Gwen alone in the darkening sunset.

Gwen shook her head and cursed in Mandarin. “This ain’t good. Sooner we get to Persephone the better.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t until after they departed from Greenleaf that Arthur had another conversation with Merlin; the man had been busy for nearly the entire trip. He made a point to smile at Arthur whenever they passed one another or saw each other in the dining hall, but he was busy cleaning up the mess that the Alliance goods had gotten him into.

Eventually, Arthur was in the dining hall late one night, and Merlin came in with his shirt rumpled, hair going in every direction. He grinned at Arthur as he entered, and though he was clearly exhausted, he still struck up a conversation.

“Thanks for helping out last week with the drop,” he told him. “And for helping out with the crew where they need it – it’s really appreciated.”

“It’s no problem,” Arthur told him, looking up from his illustrious and rather bland meal of blue-colored protein bars. “I won’t have much else to do until I get some clients.”

“Yeah, but I still appreciate it,” Merlin sighed as he pulled out a chair next to Arthur, groaning slightly as he did. “I’m sorry. I was hoping you’d have a few days to adjust before we had the feds on our back.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Arthur shook his head, almost laughing. “I knew what I was getting into. I decided to come on board despite all of the downsides to your way of life. I’ve already been two planets I’ve never seen, and I’ll get to see more. I don’t feel as if I’m being watched or controlled. A little danger’s worth it. Makes it more interesting.”

“You’re a good sport,” Merlin told him, trying to hide a smile, but he was clearly happy at the reassurance that Arthur was fine here. “You like it so far? Crew treating you well?”

“Gwen and Leon are wonderful,” Arthur said truthfully. “Gaius is hard to read, but makes me laugh. Haven’t seen much of Gwaine or Lance. Or you, for that matter.”

Merlin shook his head regretfully. “After we get back to Persephone and get this cargo unloaded – once that’s done, I promise I’ll show you the ‘verse.”

“I wasn’t asking –” Arthur started, but was struck with the realization that yes, he had been.

Merlin cut him off a moment later, though, smile small and genuine. “No, but I want to. I like you, Arthur. I want to get to know you.”

“Likewise,” Arthur stated after a moment, and his eyes met Merlin’s own. They were very blue and, as always, very kind.

A moment later, Merlin sighed again, forcing himself upwards. “I need to get a message to Perce, tell him our ETA tomorrow. I’ll see you later, Arthur.”

Arthur waved him off as he finished his dinner. He looked around the empty compartment, wondering what the crew was doing. Arthur had been helping Gwen out in the engine room playing Chinese checkers with Gaius in the med bay most of the past week; he couldn’t deal with clients yet since he didn’t know where the ship was heading after Persephone.

Tonight, though, all seemed quiet, so he wandered halls of the ship, listening to the study thrum of Aithusa making her way through the sky.

He reached the top of the ship without realizing it, seeing an open door with a set of stairs that clearly led up to the bridge. He poked his head in the door and could see the silhouette of Leon’s features in the pilot seat.

“Who’s there?” Leon craned his head slightly and Arthur looked down, not realizing that he’d been loud enough to merit notice. “Arthur? C’mere.”

Arthur hesitantly made his way up the stairs; when he reached the top, he could see the sky splayed out around them, stars twinkling in the sky, seeming close enough to touch. Persephone loomed in front of them, the pink and orange hues of the planet bright in the dark sky.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Leon grinned, giving him a sideways glance.

“Don’t you mean ‘ain’t it?’” Arthur joked lightly, but Leon was serious when he shook his head.

“Nope. I’m pretty highborn myself. Not nearly as high as the Pendragons, but I was born on Osiris.”

“Really?” Arthur smiled, surprised. He hadn’t gotten that impression from Leon at all. “What’s your family name?”

“Carpenter,” Leon responded. “My father’s a well-to-do businessman and my mother’s a lawyer. I was meant to go to law school myself, but I opted out and trained to be a pilot instead.”

“How’d you end up on a ship like this and not some Alliance cruiser?” Arthur asked. “I mean – if you don’t mind saying.”

“Not at all,” Leon said cheerfully, seeming pleased that Arthur cared. “My piloting school was on Persephone, which is the home to an even split of ships – legitimate and illegal. I came to Aithusa for an interview five years back, not realizing that it was a part of the latter group. Merlin and Lance hired me right away, and by the time I realized that they were smugglers, it was too late.”

“They…wouldn’t let you go?” Arthur jerked his head in surprise. Merlin seemed to really love all of the people on his crew; he couldn’t imagine that Leon was being kept here under force.

Thankfully, Leon snorted, taking a hand off of the ship’s controls to press it to his face, stifling laughter. “God no. I met Gwen.”

“Oh,” Arthur smiled bemusedly, wondering what it was like to fall in love, if it was always quick like that or if it could take time.

“I would’ve been ruined for all other girls,” Leon said with a fond smile. “And all other ships as well. Aithusa doesn’t look like much, but she grows on you. I used to leave the room when the others started discussing jobs and drops, trying to pretend to myself that I worked for a merchant ship. But Merlin…Merlin loves his crew like nothing else. He made me feel like this was home, no matter what business we did. Best captain in the ‘verse – not that he’s aware of it. He thinks all captains feel the same way he does.”

“I knew when I met him,” Arthur said slowly, somehow wanting to reciprocate this flow of information, show that he wanted to be on this ship, wanted to confide in Leon, “that I’d never find someone like him again. Not if I walked on every planet in the ‘verse.”

“He’s very special,” Leon said quietly, and Arthur hummed in agreement.

“What –?” Leon cut himself off as he narrowed his eyes out into the black, before finishing his thought with a confused and bit fearful, “What the hell is that?”

Arthur squinted out the windows until he could see what Leon did; it was a temporary space station set up very close to them. The stripes on the side indicated that it was marked by the Alliance; another ship out ahead of them stopped just outside the station, a bridge clearly connecting the two.

“ _Fei-oo,_ ” Leon shook his head, continuing to curse for a moment. “There’s a gorram checkpoint outside the docks. I already know I’m within their range; they’ve detected us, we’ll get buzzed any second. Fuck! This wasn’t here two weeks ago.”

“And we have Alliance-imprinted goods on board,” Arthur finished for him, a feeling of dread growing in his chest.

Leon grabbed his communication unit from the control board. “Merlin, get the hell up here. We’ve got ourselves an Alliance patrol.”

Arthur heard a bang from beneath them followed by a string of Mandarin curses before the banging continued until Merlin tore up the staircase with a look of angered annoyance in his eye, Gwaine on his tail and looking very much the same.

“Shit!” Merlin bit out as he caught sight of the space station. “When did they install a new ruttin’ checkpoint?”

“Must have been recent-like,” Gwaine growled, his fists curled at his sides.

“Leon, can you get us out of this?” Merlin asked, desperation leaking through his voice.

Leon shook his head as a light appeared on the control board. “We just got buzzed. No way out now without a dozen feds on our tail.”

“Okay,” Merlin ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Okay, here’s how we play it. Everyone but Leon gets to the cargo bay to greet them. No use trying to hide anybody; makes us seem untrustworthy. Let me do the talking. The imprinted goods are in a locked compartment but chances are they’ll ask for a key. We can’t overpower them, but maybe we can distract them so that they won’t be thorough enough in their search.”

“That’s a hell of bargain,” Gwaine told him, eyebrows raised, but Merlin just bit his lip in anger.

“I know. But it’s all we got right now.” Merlin grabbed the com unit out of Leon’s hands to make an announcement to the ship. “Lance, Gwen, Gaius – get down to the cargo bay. We’re about to be boarded.”

Gwaine headed down the staircase and Arthur followed suit; Merlin was quick on their heels. Arthur turned around to get a good look at him, and his eyes were heavy and miserable. For some reason, it made Arthur’s chest squeeze in pain to see him like this. He wondered if there was anything that he could do to make the situation better.

He figured that there was really only one way he could help, so when the three of them passed the entrance to his shuttle, he ducked inside to grab something. Merlin gave him an odd look when he rejoined them, but didn’t make any comment.

“What’s going on?” Gwen’s lip tremored, rushing toward them the moment they entered the cargo bay. Lance was just behind her, his expression equally concerned. Merlin explained what was going on; Gwen swore while Lance made the Holy Trinity sign over his chest. Gaius just shook his head sadly from where he sat on one of the cargo bins.

The ship jerked beneath them as it was caught in the clutches of the Alliance patrol, locking into place in the next second. Merlin stepped forward, a cool look of determination on his face.

“Everyone behind me,” he said quietly. “Whatever happens, I’m sorry about this.”

Not a minute later, a troop of grey-uniformed Alliance officers entered Aithusa with solider-like precision. Arthur felt an unpleasant swooping sensation in his chest that didn’t overly make sense; being from Londinium, he saw Alliance officers every day. Still, the number of illegal activities he’d partaken in on Londinium was limited to the number of times he’d seen Merlin.

“Evening, officers,” Merlin greeted them pleasantly, a mild smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “What can we do for you tonight?”

The senior officer who’d come forward to meet him ignored his question, instead saying to one of his compatriots, “Firefly class, model three,” before turning to Merlin. “And you would be?”

“Captain Merlin Emrys,” Merlin answered. “This is my crew, with the exception of my pilot, who’s still on the bridge. Is there anything in particular that we can help you with?”

“Search the bay,” the officer made a sweeping motion forward; the anxiety of the crew was tangible.

Arthur looked around at the people who had taken him in and treated him decently and decided that he had to act, consequences be damned.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Arthur said in a firm voice, stepping forward to stand evenly with Merlin, whose eyes were guarded but still clearly willing Arthur to shut up and let him deal with this. Arthur wasn’t going to do that, though.

The officer blinked at him before letting out a low, mirthless laugh. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because my name is Arthur Pendragon,” Arthur put on his very best commanding and angry voice. He thrust his identification papers in the man’s direction. As the officer looked down at them and realized their legitimacy, the look in his eyes changed from one of snide power to quaking fear.

Arthur smiled cruelly down at him, taking pleasure in the shift of power in the room. “I’ve commandeered this ship for my personal use. And I _don’t_ think that my father would take kindly to _my_ ship being stopped by some two-bit patrol team. I’m above your paygrade, officer.”

“Mr. Pendragon, sir,” the officer stammered, “there are protocols to be followed. If you had somehow sent us a message…let us know you were here…we would never have interfered with your journey like this.”

“I should hope not,” Arthur very nearly snarled. “Because my sister is down there on Persephone and your little patrol is affecting _both_ of our very busy schedules. My father does not take kindly to people who annoy his children. We’re _very_ precious to him, you see.”

“I – I know of your father’s reputation for –”

“Do you?” Arthur said mildly, taking pleasure in adding extra bite to his next words. “Then you know that he can make any man’s life a living hell. There’s no planet in the universe that he couldn’t find you on. A man like him is very powerful. Which makes his _son_ very powerful. Which means I want you and your men to get the _hell_ off of my ship and let us to get Persephone unobstructed.”

“O-of course, sir,” the officer did his best to smile up at him, but Arthur took satisfaction in the fear in his eyes. “Men! Off-board! We’ve seen enough here.” He turned back to Arthur, his face sniveling, causing a twist of revulsion in Arthur’s stomach. “I do hope you won’t say – say anything to your father about your dissatisfaction with us today.”

Arthur paused for a moment to let the man suffer just a second longer, his tongue between his teeth as he regarded him with neutral eyes. “We’ll see.”

The officer went so far as to salute him as he led his men off the door. Arthur, and the crew around him, stayed entirely still until the ship’s doors thudded to a close.

Silence reigned for a moment longer as Merlin turned slowly to face him, a look of disbelieved shock on prominent on his face. “You. Fucking. Genius.”

Arthur wasn’t expecting to be pulled into a hug, but he let it happen anyway, liking the feeling of Merlin’s arms around him and the pats on the back that were presumably coming from the rest of the crew, though he couldn’t see them from where his face was pressed against Merlin’s.

“Good show,” Lance, surprisingly, also pulled him into a hug once Merlin let go, and Gwen grabbed Arthur from his other side to squeeze the life out of him.

“You were so scary for a minute there!” She gushed as Arthur turned to face her. “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Merlin told him, a serious look in his eyes as he put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Those things you said about your father – if he really is that powerful, couldn’t he find out about this?”

“He’s powerful,” Arthur admitted. “But he’s also busy. Chances are this won’t even make it to his mailbox. If it does, he might get rid of it without a second glance. Whatever the case, I don’t care. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“What’s going on?” Leon’s voice rang out through the communication system. “I’m being told that we’re free to depart. What happened down there?”

Merlin strode quickly over the communication device that hung from the wall next to the stairs. “Leave as quick as you can, Leon. I’ll explain later, but suffice to say Arthur’s our favorite person in the ‘verse right now.”

Gwaine came toward Arthur with a smile and a hand out to shake. Glad of the positive interaction between the two of them, Arthur took it.

“You’re pretty clever for a whore,” Gwaine remarked lightly, and Arthur would have let it go with only a thud in his chest at the word if Merlin hadn’t come up from behind Gwaine the next moment to smack the back of his head.

“Ow!” Gwaine yowled as he wrenched himself away from Arthur. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Gwen next to him. “The hell was that for? I was paying him a compliment!”

“No, you weren’t,” Merlin said icily, and the hard lines that had only just evaporated from his face suddenly seemed much sharper. “That’s two times you’ve insulted him since he came aboard, Gwaine. And I’m pretty sure you haven’t talked more than two times beyond that.”

“You used to be fun before the gorram Companion showed up,” Gwaine glared at Merlin sharply. “What happened to twenty years of friendship, huh?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Merlin bit out, and the gentle teasing that had existed between them until now was gone as quick as Merlin’s good mood. “Gwaine, you’ll always be my friend. But right now? You’re being an asshole. Go to sleep. Tomorrow, you’re gonna have some gorram manners, you understand me?”

Arthur thought for a moment that Gwaine was going to spit in Merlin’s face. But the fury in face subsided after a moment, and then he just looked exhausted, his brown eyes sagging in defeat. “Sure. Whatever.”

He trudged out of the room. As he disappeared, Merlin let out a steady sigh. “I’m going to sleep, too. We dock in Persephone tomorrow.”

He left without looking at Arthur. Gwen squeezed his hand on her way out, and Lance sent him an apologetic look as he took Gaius’s arm to help the old man down the stairs to his rooms.

Arthur was alone in the cargo bay, a feeling of guilt growing in his stomach. A crew like this was special, one-in-a-million, and now Arthur felt responsible for tearing it apart. Sure, the others seemed to like him for now, but it wouldn’t be long before they started turning on each other, too. Arthur had never had any friends before outside of Morgana; he wondered if this was why, if his presence was toxic enough to force even the closest of people apart.

He stood in the cargo bay for a long time before finally forcing his creaking joints, his knee shaky underneath him, up the stairs to the dining hall, where he could access his shuttle from.

He was surprised when he opened the door to find Merlin sitting in one of the chairs, still looking exhausted as hell, but this time with a small knife in one hand and a stump of wood in the other. The objects confused Arthur, but Merlin, it seemed, was surprised to see him, too.

“Thought you went to sleep,” Merlin told him, using the knife to slice a thin piece of wood away from the stump.

“Likewise,” Arthur said, dropping into the chair opposite him. “What are you doing?”

“Woodcarving,” Merlin answered, brandishing the bark in his direction. “It was what my father did professionally. I never knew him, but I picked it up as a child to – to feel close to him, I suppose. Now I do it when I’m stressed or angry or anxious or – _fuck_ , I’m sorry about Gwaine, Arthur.”

Merlin let a piece of wood snap away from the bark with unnecessary force, his expression tight and angry. “I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s usually – I mean, he’s always vulgar and rude and irreverent – but I’m two of those three things and _I_ never see fit to make an ass of myself.”

“Merlin, it really doesn’t matter,” Arthur tried to calm him, putting a hand between the two of them on the table so that they weren’t quite touching, but were close enough to. “I’ve been called worse. Hell, you were _there_ when I was called worse.”

“Yeah, but that’s not my crew,” Merlin told him, eyes sharp and hard. “My crew is above calling names like – like _that_.”

“I – I _am_ a whore, though,” Arthur started to explain, but Merlin cut him off with a gentle slap on the wrist.

“You are _not_ ,” he said firmly, fully believing his words, and Arthur was forcefully reminded about how even though the past few days had shown him Merlin’s anger and frustration, the man sitting in front of him was one of the only people who had ever stood up for Arthur, protected him, was _kind_ to him in a way no one had been before.

“Technically, yes,” Arthur said. “I mean, I’m registered with the government, I have to have physical examinations, I’m insanely well-educated – but my job is the same as the girls and boys who live in the backwater whorehouses.”

Merlin reached forward again, but this time instead of hitting him, he let go of his stump of wood and grabbed Arthur’s hand impossibly tightly, his gaze sharp and intense and almost hopeless. “That may be. But when someone calls you that – that name, it implies something. It implies that you’re dirty. And – and _wrong_. You’re not dirty, Arthur. And you’re not wrong. And I won’t let anyone, even yourself, say that you are.”

Arthur had learned how to control his emotions long ago, even before Companion training, even before army training. He’d learned how to stop his tears as a toddler for fear of Uther hitting him when he showed weakness.

That ingrained nature was perhaps the only thing that stopped tears from pricking his eyes now.

“You’re…” Arthur muttered as he switched his gaze to the floorboards, unable to witness Merlin’s genuine and vulnerable gaze any longer. “...a good man, Merlin.”

“You’re on my crew,” Merlin said firmly, and Arthur jerked his head up in surprise. “I don’t let people on my crew call names, and I don’t let people on my crew _be_ called names.”

“I’m not on your crew, though,” Arthur said somewhat awkwardly, though he felt his cheeks grow warmer. “I mean…I rent out your shuttle is all.”

“After what you did for us tonight?” Merlin raised an incredulous eyebrow. “I may not pay you, but that doesn’t stop you from being a part of my crew. Whether you like it or not.”

Arthur tried not to show how happy that made him as they sat in the quiet hum of Aithusa’s journey.

“I should talk to Gwaine,” Merlin said, finally letting his arm go lax, though he didn’t move his hand from on top of Arthur’s. “I don’t know why he’s doing this, but it’s my responsibility to fix it.”

“He’s jealous,” Arthur answered immediately, not recognizing that it was the truth until he said it aloud. Merlin cocked his head and blinked in confusion. “Trust me, I’ve been in my line of work long enough to know when a man is jealous. What he’s jealous of, I don’t know. But that’s definitely his motivation.”

Merlin nodded, his eyes narrowed as he processed the information. “I suppose that makes sense. The only thing Gwaine loves more than shooting his pistol and a drinking his gin is attention, and since you’ve come on board he’s no longer the center of it.” He stood up, squeezing Arthur’s hand quickly as he did so. “Thank you again, for what you did today. That’s twice you’ve saved my neck, you know. You’re gonna have to think of a way for me to repay you one of these days.”

As Merlin left the room and Arthur glanced about the ship, listening to it purr as it descended to Persephone, he wished he had the courage to tell Merlin that he’d already repaid him thrice over, the foreign feeling of acceptance growing in his chest.

* * *

 

“I wanna be off-world by tonight, so everyone needs to move quick,” Merlin told his crew as the ship’s opening lowered. The busy, dusty world of Persephone set out before them in its splendor. “Lance and I’ll be taking the goods to Perce; he knows that they’re imprinted and is still willing to pay most of the original price, so we’re lucking out there. Gwaine, you’re in charge of the ship today. Gwen, Leon – go help Arthur get his things. Hurry, though – this job’s been a lot more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Wow, two weeks ago, I ain’t never met a Companion and now I’m gonna meet two!” Gwen grinned as she followed Arthur out of the ship’s hatch and onto the busy street, Leon holding one of her hands. Merlin brushed shoulders with Arthur on his way in the other direction, giving him a friendly grin. Arthur waved farewell, hoping that things would go smoothly today to make up for the stress of the previous night.

“Don’t get too excited,” Leon said, though his soft grin as he looked down at his wife contradicted any implications in his words. “You’re a married woman, you know.”

“Hush!” Gwen swatted him lightly on the arm as Arthur led the pair of them through a bustling crowd, trying to hail a transport vehicle. He missed whatever she said next as he finally managed to pin one down, slipping the driver a coin and muttering Morgana’s address. He beckoned Leon and Gwen forward and let them into the vehicle before he followed.

“Gwaine’s mighty angry about being left behind on the ship today,” Gwen chattered. Leon looked between her and Arthur a bit worriedly, but Arthur waved his concern off. “But it’s not like Merlin would have let him come with us after…after last night.”

“He’ll get over it,” Leon rolled his eyes. “Merlin hasn’t confiscated his gin yet; that’s when we know things will really get serious.”

Arthur let his fingernails bite into his skin the whole way across Persephone to his sister’s high-rise building, fear growing in his stomach at what Morgana would say, the questions she’d ask. He wondered if she knew what Uther had done and somewhat hoped so; he didn’t want to be the one to have to explain it.

“Ain’t this fancy?” Gwen whispered to Leon as they rode the glass elevator the top of Morgana’s building to the vast and spacious top-floor suite she called home.

Arthur knocked on her door before the anxiety in his chest could convince him otherwise; he’d sent a wave yesterday telling Morgana that he would be here, but she hadn’t responded, which either meant she was angry or…

She opened the door, her expression set and furious, and slapped Arthur in the face.

Yep. Angry.

“Where have you been?” She hissed at him while Leon pushed Arthur slightly upright from the wind of her blow. His cheek stung, but if Morgana had wanted to inflict pain, she would have used her hand with the brass rings on it. “More than two weeks ago, I get your wave about you leaving Londinium, and then your things show up on my door and I have all of these furious waves from Father about if I’ve heard from you– I lied for you, by the way, you’re welcome for that – and _now_ you see fit to come and tell me what’s going on?”

“Just be grateful I showed up at all,” Arthur muttered, rubbing his cheek.

“You alright?” Gwen asked him anxiously, and he calmed her with a nod.

Morgana, it seemed, hadn’t noticed his guests until now; her eyes snapped to them suspiciously. “And who are your friends, Arthur?”

“Leon and Gwen Carpenter,” Arthur waved a hand in introduction, “meet my sister, Morgana Pendragon. Leon’s the pilot on the ship I’m flying on. Gwen’s the mechanic.”

Morgana blinked. “The – ship? It doesn’t take two weeks to get to Persephone from Londinium, Arthur.”

“Did I say flying? I meant living,” Arthur strode grouchily into Morgana’s rooms, still upset about the hit, even though he probably deserved it. He beckoned Leon and Gwen to follow him, which they did somewhat awkwardly.

“Living?” Morgana no longer sounded angry, only confused and nearly hopeful. “Arthur – did you seriously leave Londinium for good?”

Arthur nodded and Morgana let out a breathless laugh.

“Oh, thank God,” she said, hurrying behind Gwen and Leon to close her door. “It’s about time. What made you grow a spine, little brother?”

Shit. She didn’t know. Arthur winced for the impact as he opened his mouth. “Father’s been spying on me for the past ten years – my clients, the politically active ones – he had cameras installed in my chambers. Gleaned information from them. When I confronted him about it, all he cared about was protecting his reputation.”

“That bastard,” Morgana turned whiter by the word, finally culminating in her features trembling with anger. He heard Gwen’s intake of breath from the doorway but didn’t turn to see her reaction. “That fucking bastard. I’m having this place combed for cameras, along with every place in the city that I’ve ever visited.”

She let out a few more curses in Mandarin, as well as a few in French and Dutch, which she only broke out when she was really angry. Arthur patted her hand awkwardly. “Just…don’t tell him where I am, alright?”

“Where are you, though?” Morgana asked him. “This ship you’re on – is it safe? Can he find you there? No offense,” she added, shooting a look over at Gwen and Leon.

“None taken,” Gwen said, bright as ever, biting her lip as she looked at Morgana, wide-eyed and clearly awed.  

“They fly under the radar,” Arthur assured Morgana. “And I trust them.”

“Our captain’s the best man you’d ever meet,” Gwen broke in, eyes wide. “He’ll take good care of Arthur; I’d swear it by any god you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Morgana rose, smiling at the crewmembers for the first time. “Thank you for anything you’ve done to help my brother.”

“He’s done more than enough to help us,” Leon said firmly, giving Arthur an appreciatory glance that Arthur returned.

“Well then, I assume you’re here to get your things,” Morgana moved languidly across the room to pick up her keys from the kitchen table. “They’re in my storage unit downstairs. If you’ll follow me.”

She swept from the room with easy grace and Gwen hurried to keep time with her, leaving Arthur and Leon to lag behind them.

“Bit of a scary woman, your sister,” Leon muttered to him with a grin as they headed down the hallway.

“Don’t I know it,” Arthur remarked, but was cut off from making another comment with Gwen’s giggle from ahead of them.

“Ain’t you just boatloads of pretty!”

Morgana laughed and linked arms with Gwen. Arthur sent Leon a look, but the other man was just chuckling fondly.

“Gwen’s working pretty hard on that crush,” Arthur said, a bit nervous as to how this would play out. “You’re not jealous?”

“Not yet,” Leon bumped shoulders with him on their way down the stairs.

For as much money as Arthur had, he didn’t actually have a great variety of possessions. He had kitchen utensils, most of which would be unnecessary aboard Aithusa, some bedding that would come in useful, a bookshelf’s worth of textbooks from his school days that he figured he’d cart along just for boredom’s sake, and then all of his Companion materials. That was really the only thing that mattered.

Morgana insisted on accompanying him to the ship, of course, claiming she had to see it for herself. Arthur pretended to be annoyed at how protective she was being, but the fact that at least one of his family members cared about him with no ulterior motive was reason enough to smile.

Unfortunately, Merlin and Lance had returned before they did, meaning that Morgana got to intimidate more of the crewmates.

Lance received a wolfish, flirtatious smile on from her, which must be a true measure of his handsomeness, as Morgana usually saved that smile for the women who hired her. Gwaine, in an uncharacteristic show of restraint, glanced at Merlin before giving Morgana nothing more than a tight-lipped smile. Whatever Merlin had said to him last night must have worked.

“And that must make you the Captain,” Morgana said, reaching a hand forward to shake Merlin’s. “Gwen tells me that you’re the best man in the galaxy; that you’ll be taking good care of my brother.”

Merlin blushed under the kind words, which seemed to delight Morgana, her smile growing wider. “I’ll do my best,” he said, shooting Arthur a look over her shoulder.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, all of my things are onboard and we’re in a hurry. It’s time to go, Morgana.”

“When will I see my brother again?” Morgana hadn’t taken Arthur’s cue, not turning her attention from Merlin.

“Ain’t too sure about that,” Merlin said. “We come to Persephone pretty often to fuel. We got a reliable contact here, too, but we can never say for certain. Hopefully, it won’t be too long before we’re back planet side.”

Arthur expected Morgana’s temper to flare with the lack of information and control she’d have, but she simply turned back to Arthur, kissing him in the cheek. “I’m proud of you, little brother,” she whispered as she started away. “Don’t die!” She said a bit louder, for the benefit of a chuckling crew.

Merlin came forward to clap Arthur on the back. “Come on. Let’s get your things organized before we take off.”

“Thought we were in a rush,” Arthur pointed out, but Merlin just shrugged.

“We can give it a few extra minutes.”

* * *

 

As it turned out, Aithusa wouldn’t be returning to Persephone for a month or two, depending on the schedule. Merlin had gotten a bundle of different jobs lined up in the Georgia system, some of them staying on-planet for multiple weeks.

Arthur didn’t ask about the specifics of the jobs and no one told him; it was probably for the best that he didn’t know. Even though he didn’t exactly like the feeling of entering a room and hearing the words hush around him, he knew that no matter what Merlin said, he wasn’t a real part of the crew. And that was okay; Arthur was rich, respectable, and highborn, the opposite of most of Aithusa’s crew.  He would probably be wary of himself in their position.

The good thing about long stints on-planet was that Arthur could book jobs much more easily. The moment he sent a wave out to Ezra, Regina, and Kerry, the three planets Merlin could give him exact times and dates on, he received a string of requests from each one.

The Border planets of Georgia most likely had more Companion options than the planets on the Rim, but there were only a handful of men and women who based themselves on each planet. However, since male Companions were rarer, Arthur still found himself gaining more and more requests by the day as they traveled.

The transition was easier than Arthur expected; it was odd to bring clients back to a ship, but his chambers ended up looking much the same as they did back on Londinium, if a bit smaller. The clients he took here were certainly more enthusiastic, as this was a rarer occurrence for them; however, their status and money was still the highest that their planets had to offer.

Thankfully, most of the crew was out on their jobs when Arthur had to bring his clients on-board. The only two people who had ever seen his clients arriving and departing were Gwen and Gaius. Gwen had held in a squeal when she saw Arthur escorting a beautiful woman through the cargo bay, but otherwise hadn’t made any commentary. Gaius had seen Arthur leave with the son of a successful miner one afternoon, and simply raised an eyebrow at him, as was his way.

On one of their last nights on Kerry, however, Arthur was bidding goodbye to the mayor of one of the town’s daughters at the ship’s doorway where her transport vehicle sat when the low purr of Merlin’s vehicle pulled up in front of Aithusa.

“Oh,” the girl, a blonde named Elena who had been clumsy and overenthusiastic but very sweet, jumped backward as Merlin, followed by Lance and Gwaine, slammed the doors to the vehicle. Arthur hadn’t seen them in a few days – they’d been on Kerry nearly a week and the three of them had only come back to the ship to get supplies once since then. “Do you all – live on the ship, too?

“Yep,” Merlin shot her a strained smile, and Arthur noticed with a jolt that one of his eyes was purple and swelling.

“They were just going inside,” Arthur gave Merlin a look, wanting these two parts of his life entirely separate. Merlin grimaced at him, recognizing the look for what it was.

“Sorry about that, enjoy your night.” He shooed Gwaine and Lance up the staircase, following them quickly, but not before Gwaine shot a flirty smile and a wink at Elena, who blushed prettily under his attention.

“Are they Companions, too?” Elena asked, voice excited, but Arthur snorted at the mere idea.

“No, they’re the ship’s crew.”

“Well, they’re all pretty enough to be Companions,” Elena mused, and Arthur figured she was probably right. “Especially that long-haired one with the beard.”

“Well, you may not have to pay for him,” Arthur said, trying not to roll his eyes. “But my ship leaves at first light. It was lovely to meet you, Elena. I wish you the best of luck in all of your future affairs.”

Elena giggled as he kissed her hand, and he waved at her as she drove off into the green-tinted night, the sun just beginning to go down. He headed back into the ship, glad of his time on Kerry and glad that someone as genuine as Elena had been his last night here. He found that Merlin was still in the cargo bay, his black eye looking even worse in the light as he shoved a box into one of the compartments.

“Are you alright?” Arthur called to him, stopping a few feet away. “You should have Gaius look at your eye.”

“On my way there,” Merlin turned to him with a tired but friendly smile as he closed the compartment door. “Thought you were headed out.”

“Just got done,” Arthur corrected him. “Did you finish the job?”

“Yep. All the goods got where they needed to go alright. No one on the crew got arrested or got dead, so I count it as a success.”

Arthur laughed quietly. “I suppose it is.”

“I’ve got a slight change of travel plans if it’s alright with you,” Merlin strode forward to face him, his eyes a bit nervous, though Arthur couldn’t guess why.

“I thought we were fueling on Boros before we went back to Persephone for you to get another job,” Arthur said, frowning.

“Here’s the thing,” Merlin rolled back on the balls of his feet. “Boros is positively crawling with Alliance and I’d rather avoid it if we could. And we happen to be in my home system, so my mother lives on the planet next door.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, surprised. “Well, I’m sure you want to see her.”

“I do, but that’s not all,” Merlin added. “My new contact here on Kerry hired me to head out to the Blue Sun system and drop by Deadwood to deliver some goods for him. Getting to Blue Sun will be a longer trip – about two weeks onboard, and then three to get back to Persephone. I didn’t know if you told your sister –”

“I try not to tell Morgana anything more than two days in advance,” Arthur interrupted. “Otherwise, I open myself up to a world of hurt when I disappoint her.”

“Oh, good,” Merlin said, looking relieved. “She’s scary, your sister is. Wouldn’t want to make her angry.”

“Trust me, no one does,” Arthur looked at Merlin, confused, as the other man bit his lip anxiously. “Is there something else?”

“Maybe?” Merlin asked, his usual steady blue eyes shifting. “Athens has a small fueling station not far from where my mother lives. I’m planning on taking Gaius there in the morning, but, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to spend the afternoon with me.”

“Really? I mean – of course, but wouldn’t you want to spend time with your mother?” Arthur’s chest tightened, suddenly happier than he’d been all week.

“Well, I promised you I’d show you the ‘verse, and I been so busy with jobs and stressed about what the Alliance is up to that I haven’t really fulfilled that promise,” Merlin told him, eyes genuine and smiling, but still with that nervous air to them that didn’t belong there.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur reminded him, “I do realize that you have a lot of responsibilities. You’re not beholden to any promise you made me.”

“Yeah, I am,” Merlin answered immediately. “And I wanna show you ‘round Athens tomorrow.”

Arthur hesitated before he spoke before, reaching forward to brush Merlin’s hair away from his purpled eye. Merlin winced as he did so, grinding his teeth together at the pressure. “Only if you go see Gaius and get this taken care of right now.”

Merlin nodded, a mischievous spark returning to his eye. “ _Yes_ , Mother. Oh, shit,” he said, face changing to one of dread. “My actual mother’s gonna see this black eye. Ten minutes she’ll spend lecturing me on how I’m never careful. My timing just never gets any better, does it?”

Arthur laughed, following Merlin out of the cargo bay, his feet light underneath him, feeling secure in the knowledge that Merlin had been nervous to ask him to spend the day together.

* * *

 

“Alright, children, try to behave while I’m gone,” Merlin called from the driver’s seat of the transport vehicle, Gaius strapped in at the passenger’s side. “Gwen, you’re in charge of fueling. Arthur, I’ll meet you in town just past noon. Gwaine, I wanna take off by dusk so don’t let your sisters convince you to party all night long.”

“You’re no fun!” Gwaine called back, swinging a bag over his shoulder, his voice light and teasing in contrast to the last time he’d accused Merlin of such a trait. “Don’t worry, esteemed captain, I’ll figure out how to fend them off.”

“I didn’t know Gwaine was from this planet,” Arthur told Gwen as Merlin and Gaius drove off, Gwaine hitchhiking in the other direction toward the town center.

“He and Merlin grew up together,” Lance answered for her, making his way toward the as Gwen connected the fuel pump to Aithusa’s underside, grease stains appearing slowly on her jumpsuit. “Merlin lived on the farm, though, and Gwaine was a merchant’s son.”

“What planets are you all from, then?” Arthur asked, genuinely curious to know. He wondered why the question had never come up before, and realized that the crew knew a lot more about him than he did about them.

“I was born vesselside,” Gwen answered, looking up from where she knelt near the fuel generator. “My daddy was a mechanic for a big cruiser. But when my mama died, he took me and Elyan to raise on Persephone.”

“My mother died when I was young, too,” Arthur found himself saying, a piece of information that he assumed was implied by his upbringing, but never something he’d directly stated before. “That’s tough to live with.”

Gwen looked up at him with sad brown eyes. “It is that,” she said softly, before her gaze switched to Lance, cheerful again. “And you’re from a Border planet, I know, but I forget the name.”

“Shadow,” Lance answered softly, and Arthur and Gwen both winced.

“Dammit,” Gwen whispered. “I knew that. Shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.”

“You still have any family, or…?” Arthur trailed off; Lance shook his head, eyes not leaving the ground. Arthur felt terrible for asking; Shadow had been bombed so severely in the Unification War that it would never be habitable again.

When Lance looked up, his eyes were forcefully bright. “Why don’t you and I go into town, Arthur? We’ll see the sights while you wait for Merlin.”

“Sure,” Arthur answered quickly, wanting to make up for his earlier digression. “Gwen, you alright fueling?”

“Sure thing,” she said, wiping the sweat on her face with a gloved hand. “Besides, once Leon is done making sure the control room is all locked down, we can have some alone time.”

She waggled her eyebrows, causing Arthur to groan and Lance to make retching noise, but all of them were laughing by the time Arthur and Lance started walking in the direction of town.

“Do you know what you’re doing with Merlin this afternoon?” Lance asked conversationally as their trek began. It was only a mile until the nearest town so it would hardly be a long walk, but it gave Arthur a chance to talk to Lance, who he had never really gotten to know.

Arthur shrugged. “Not sure. He keeps talking about showing me the universe, so I expect some hidden beauty here, or something sentimental since it’s his childhood home.”

Lance was quiet for a moment before saying, “Merlin’s a rather private person. You wouldn’t guess it from looking at him, how friendly and welcoming he is, but he keeps his secrets. His wanting to be with you is a mark of how much he likes you.”

“I’m flattered,” Arthur tried to make his voice joking and light, but he and Lance both knew how true and real the statement was.

“Everyone’s real glad you’re here, though,” Lance shot him a grin. “Gwen had been complaining for a while about how boring things were getting – until you showed up, that is. Leon’s smiling a lot more. Even Gaius likes you, which is a rare showing on his part. I’m hoping that this long journey to the Rim will give me a chance to get to know you better.”

“Likewise,” Arthur returned his smile, warmth growing in his chest at the compliments. He had been worried about driving the crew apart, and even though Gwaine was still hardly a friend, Lance made him feel much better about his place on Aithusa.

“You’re good for Aithusa, Arthur,” Lance patted him on the back. “Real good you’re here.”

* * *

 

He and Lance wandered the fairly limited amount of shops in the town center for the morning until Merlin arrived, without his transport vehicle but with a smile on his face the likes of which Arthur hadn’t seen before. Merlin was usually smiling, but the look on his face was gentle and rare; Arthur assumed it was a result of seeing his mother.

“I let Gaius keep the vehicle; figured he’d need it more than we would,” Merlin explained as Lance waved them farewell. Merlin led him to the opposite side of town than the ship was in, and it didn’t take long for Arthur to realize they were headed out of city limits.

“How was your mother?” Arthur asked, and that smile appeared on Merlin’s face again.

“She’s good – lectured me on the black eye, as expected, told me to be careful a thousand times, and made a lot of comments about how a growing boy like me needs his vitamins, despite the fact that I haven’t grown an inch since I was a teenager.”

“She probably means wider,” Arthur teased him, “since you’re as skinny as a beanpole.”

Merlin snorted, shoving Arthur’s shoulder slightly. “You should’ve seen me at nineteen. _That’s_ what a beanpole looks like. I’m _averagely_ skinny now.”

 “Sure,” Arthur grinned but felt a bit of pain in his hand. When he looked down, he saw that his fingernails were digging into his skin of their own accord. He must be nervous about something. He looked over at Merlin and remembered why.

“So you and Gwaine grew up together, huh?” Arthur spoke after a moment’s silence.

“Yeah,” Merlin smiled fondly as he led Arthur down a fork in the road, toward a grassy field and away from the town’s edges. “Gwaine, our friend Will, and I terrorized this town for years as kids. Every spring, we’d go and steal Old Man McCray’s apples, and he’d chase us off his property with a shotgun. He actually did shoot at us a couple of times, but we wouldn’t have gone in the first place if we weren’t quick enough to duck.”

“I guess your mother’s justified in telling you to be careful, then,” Arthur bumped Merlin’s shoulder with his own. Merlin shoved him right back. “So where’s your friend Will, then? Never became a part of your crew?”

Merlin bit his lip, looking out into the distance at the rows of corn that lay out ahead of them. “Will’s been dead near ten years now.”

“Damn,” Arthur winced, cursing himself for putting his foot in his mouth twice in one day. “Sorry I asked.”

“You didn’t know,” Merlin said, shrugging, meeting Arthur’s eyes. They hadn’t changed; they were still kind and gentle. He cleared his throat as he asked, “What about you? What did you and Morgana get up to when you were kids?”

“Not a lot,” Arthur let out a humorless laugh. “I mean, we made our fun in the cold, dark halls of my father’s manor. We played Hide and Go Seek and Chinese checkers. But when Father got home, we’d have to read our textbooks and stay silent.”

“At least you had each other,” Merlin said softly, and his hand brushed just slightly against Arthur’s before Merlin tugged at his sleeve, beckoning him away from the crops laid out before them and over toward a steep hill across the way.

Merlin primarily talked as they trekked up the hill, about his mother’s kindness and how much he missed her cooking, about how Gaius had always had that judgmentally raised eyebrow from long before Merlin could remember, about Gwaine and Will’s antics as children. Arthur listened, liking the gentle timber of Merlin’s voice, the clear fondness he had for his childhood. Arthur wished he had the same gentle feelings about his own youth, but was still grateful that Merlin had chosen him to hear about his.

After half an hour of walking, they finally reached the peak of the hill. Merlin grinned at him as he pulled Arthur forward to see the view.

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. It was an entire valley of green, grass grown wild more than eight feet off the grown, sprawling for what looked like miles. He shot Merlin an incredulous look.

“I’ve never seen this much green in all my life,” he said honestly. “The Core planets are all so shiny and metallic, and most of the Border planets are full of dust. This is…beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” Merlin said softly from next to him, his gaze directed downwards as well with a sad, strange look in his eye. “I’ve been to so many planets, but this is still one of my favorite views. Not including the stars, of course.” His voice grew softer. “Nothing will ever beat seeing the stars.”

He and Merlin sat on the hillside together, feet dangling over the edge, shoving each other lightly as they talked, but steadying each other if they feared the other would fall.

“They’ve tried to convert this into farmland, but the grass just grows back twice as tell anytime they try,” Merlin told him. “Eventually they just gave up, let nature run wild. Gwaine, Will, and I used to run through the field constantly, playing games there, trying not to get lost. Once when I was eight, I couldn’t find my way out and had to spend the night in there. That morning, when I was finally found, was the only time I’ve ever seen Gaius on the verge of tears. He’s seen me get _shot_ since then and yet he’s never even come close to crying. He must have liked me better as a child.”

“Maybe he’s just gotten grumpier in his old age,” Arthur said with a laugh as Merlin snorted.

“There’s no _maybe_ about that,” Merlin said, but his joking tone quickly changed to one of actual worry. “He’s been good to you, though? No judgmental comments?”

“No comments, just that eyebrow of his,” Arthur joked, trying to keep his voice light.

“The crew’s real glad you’re here, Arthur,” Merlin said after a moment, voice steady. “ _I’m_ real glad you’re here. Gwaine can be an ass sometimes, but we’re all grateful that you came aboard. For the extra money if nothing else.”

Arthur laughed at the evident joke. “Lance said as much when we were walking to town,” he said quietly. “I’m happy to be aboard as well. And – and I never thanked you properly,” he added, voice running together trying to get the words out that he’d had in his mind for the nearly three months he’d been on Aithusa, “for that first day. When you said that no one on the crew could hire me. And now that I know how few direct orders you give your crew, I’m even more grateful. I really appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Merlin said automatically, as if it had been the easiest decision in the world for him to make. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were being used or that we – we were the kind of folks who would make you uncomfortable in the place that you lived. And with the exception of Gwaine, I know that the order didn’t actually mean much. No one would’ve tried anything.”

“I know that now,” Arthur nodded, thinking of the kindness that the crew had shown him, the laughter and the smiles they’d caused. “But I was – wondering – have been for a while now – why – why haven’t –” He swallowed, heart pounding in his head, “–why haven’t you?”

“What?” Merlin breathed, facing Arthur with a cock of his head. “Why haven’t I…what?”

“I just,” Arthur shrugged, wishing he’d never opened his mouth, wishing that he’d left the question burning in his chest and not let it reach his lips, “before I came here, I thought that you. Y’know. Might – _want_ – me.”

Merlin gazed at him, eyes wide, but he wasn’t judging him, he was never judging him. If anything, his eyes grew softer around the edges, more gentle as he touched his fingertips against Arthur’s in the grass. “Not like that, Arthur. Not in the pay you for your services way. Not in the random fuck because you have cabin fever way. I didn’t invite you to come with me because I _wanted_ you. I invited you to come with me because I – I thought you were special. I liked you, and didn’t want to see you leave so quickly. I wanted to spend time with you and get to know you and – and be your _friend.”_

“I guess I’ve never really had friends before now,” Arthur admitted, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Only lovers.”

“Well, now you’ve got a ship full of them,” Merlin held his hand even more tightly, the dew from the glass clinging to their fingers. “Most of all me. And don’t get me wrong, Arthur. You’re – _so_ beautiful. But sleeping with people is your job. I don’t want to be your client; I want to be your friend. Besides,” he added, voice taking on a wry quality, “I don’t sleep with anyone who I’m not in love with.”

Arthur stared at him, not quite knowing what to make of that, but Merlin kept talking anyway. “Gwaine mocks me to high heaven for it, but it’s true. I’ve never seen the point in having sex casually. If I’m going to give – that part of me away to someone, let them be _that_ close to me, I have to trust them inexplicably. That’s not a lot of folks. But I’ve never been with anyone I didn’t love, at least in some way, or some time.”

“I’ve…” Arthur let out a breath as his fingernails dug into his skin, saying words he’d never admitted out loud before, “I’ve ever been with anyone who didn’t pay me first.”

Merlin’s eyes were deep and impossibly kind as he held Arthur’s hand in his own. “See? That’s the world you know, Arthur. And that’s not the person I am. Just – let me be your friend, yeah? You’re doing a pretty bang-up job of adjusting to my world so far. I think we can be friends. Good friends.”

“I think so, too,” Arthur said honestly, squeezing Merlin’s hand back, but all the while wondering if he could ever gain that inexplicable trust Merlin had spoken of.

* * *

 

“Give me the gorram ball, Emrys!”

“Not a chance, Gwaine!”

Merlin ignored Gwaine’s distracting taunts and arm waving, instead slamming the ball in Gwen’s general direction; however, his aim ended up being about a foot off target. Gwen groaned, giving Merlin a hand gesture that Arthur didn’t catch, as he was too busy actually chasing the ball that both Merlin and Gwen were neglecting. He ducked around Lance in order to grab the inflatable ball as it bounced on the ground, snatching it away from Gwaine’s outstretched fist.

“No!” Gwaine let out a slew of Mandarin curse words as Arthur ducked under Leon’s arms in order to slam the ball into the makeshift basket that hung from the ceiling.

“Dammit!” Leon shook his head in disappointment as Gwen cheered from behind him. Merlin, a bead of sweat on his forehead, his usual large brown coat foregone for a blue t-shirt, grinned at Arthur as they slapped hands.

“You have terrible aim,” Arthur informed him and Merlin stuck his tongue out as the others around them jeered.

“I have excellent aim with a gun, what more do you people want from me?” Merlin asked, mockingly angry but still smiling.

“You should see him with a sword, it’s embarrassing,” Gwaine tried to put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, but Merlin squirmed away from him and bumped into Arthur instead.

“Yeah, well, sword fighting is an obsolete art and I can still take you in a fist fight, so you can fuck right off.”

“Sword fighting is not obsolete, it’s –” Arthur argued, taking a step forward, to pass the ball he held back to Leon for the next round, but a twinging pain in his leg stopped him and his train of thought.

“Arthur?” Merlin squinted at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Before Arthur could explain about his bad knee, a whirring sound echoed around the cargo bay. He sent Merlin a questioning look, not having heard it since coming aboard, but Merlin’s eyes were already on Leon.

“I’ll go check it out.” Leon was up the stairs in the next second, leaving their game short a player.

“Well, it was nice having even teams while it lasted,” Gwaine said brightly, having been much more personable since he’d gotten his day with his sisters on Athens. They’d been in deep space headed for the Rim for a week now and he’d been just as cheerful as Gwen, which was saying something. “Though we might be playing two on two – Arthur, you good to keep going?”

The whirring cut out just as Gwaine finished speaking, however, and Leon’s voice replaced it. “Everyone needs to get on the bridge, stat.”

“Here, let me help you,” Merlin threw one of Arthur’s arms around his shoulder without leaving room for argument, and even though Arthur probably could have walked on his own with only minimal pain, he still leaned on Merlin as everyone made their way up the stairs.

They met Leon and Gaius on the bridge and Arthur immediately understood what the problem was; another ship was in their direct vicinity, no more than ten minutes’ journey forward. It looked odd, though; it certainly wasn’t Alliance. It wasn’t a pretty picture, stuttering as it moved through the sky, its tail engines hardly functioning, letting off spurts instead of blasting through the air.

“She’s on the drift,” Gwen said, stepping around the crowd to get a better look out the window. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Don’t think that’s a her,” Leon said quietly, and it was then Arthur that noticed the white pallor of his face and the slight shake to his voice. “Merlin, we’re in the Blue Sun system.”

“We’re still a ways out.” Merlin’s didn’t seem very confident and surefooted like he usually was; his argument was whispered, voice shaking as well, his grip on Arthur’s arm going tighter. “And this is – hardly the edge of space.”

“Wasn’t the edge last time we saw them either,” Lance stepped forward to stand next to Gwen, staring the ship down. “And it looks much the same as then.”

“Them? Who is _them_?” Arthur asked, knowing that he wouldn’t like the answer. Merlin’s hand on his shoulder grew terrifying in its intensity.

“Reavers,” Merlin whispered and Arthur blinked.

“They’re – they’re a myth,” he said, trying to convince himself. “A story made to scare children.”

“The story is real,” Merlin breathed, turning his head to face Arthur, and his eyes had a look of fear that Arthur had never seen before. He always thought Merlin was the bravest man he ever met, that nothing could faze him, but if Reavers really did exist…if they were so close…

“Leon, get all of our lights down. Make sure we ain’t making any noise. Gaius, get the emergency medical supplies,” Merlin said quietly. “There’s a chance that they won’t board us, but if they do…”

Gaius nodded solemnly as he made his way down the stairs. Lance grabbed Merlin’s other arm a moment later.

“Merlin, the emergency medical supplies are too dangerous, we can’t possibly –”

“Would you rather we be boarded by Reavers?” Merlin interrupted, eyes flashing with equal parts fear and frustration. The lights around them dimmed to nothing. “If there’s any chance that the plan will work, we’re doing it. Everyone, follow Gaius.”

Arthur wasn’t sure what to make of the situation yet, but he hated the look in Merlin’s eyes. He reached down to touch Merlin’s hand, just to show that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere, and Merlin latched onto it, his grip tighter than it had ever been. He kept ahold of Arthur’s hand until they reached the medical bay, at which point he let go to hurry over to Gaius and help pull out a tub of syringes.

“What’s going on? What are the emergency supplies?” Leon asked urgently, and Arthur was glad he wasn’t the only one in the dark.

“The last time we passed by Reavers, Gaius and I started talking about what our options would be if they ever boarded Aithusa,” Merlin explained, frantically helping Gaius fill the syringes with an amber liquid that Arthur didn’t recognize. “Option one, of course, is to be raped death and have your organs ripped out of your body.”

Arthur’s heart froze in place, but Merlin didn’t stop talking. “However, the limited research on Reavers tends to point in the direction that they’re not interested in _dead_ bodies. They _want_ to torture you. So Gaius created a serum that, when administered, slows a person’s inner workings to the point of death. But if an antidote is given quickly afterward, the effects revert and there’s no lasting damage.”

“He’s not telling you that someone would have to stay awake to administer the antidote,” Lance interrupted, his face set and angry, nearly shaking as he stared Merlin down. “ _Him_ , specifically. But if he stays awake, the Reavers will kill him and he won’t be able to administer it anyway, so all of us will die regardless.”

“Yes, and I get to save all of you from the most painful death imaginable,” Merlin’s face was just as set as Lance as Arthur’s heart thudded inside his chest, making its presence all too known. “We’re not all taking the drug unless we _know_ Reavers are boarding. We don’t know that yet. And if none of us take it, we _all_ get raped to death. This is the best option we’ve got.”

“Shouldn’t we get a say in this?” Gwaine’s white face looked Merlin down, his eyes deep with despair, and for once, Arthur knew exactly how he felt.

“No, you don’t,” Merlin said sharply, words that didn’t often come from his mouth. “Because I’m the gorram captain of this ship and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself any other way.”

They were all quiet and solemn for a moment, tension in the room palpable, before Arthur spoke up, his voice slow and measured. “Spray perfume throughout the ship to mask the scent of living or dead bodies. I don’t know much about Reavers, but I know about predators, and they always try to sniff you out. Merlin, if you’re going to stay awake, _hide_ ; preferably with one of us. That way if they think one body is dead, they might think the one underneath it is dead, too. That’s a human trait. I don’t know how human these things are, but that should cover both options, at least a little bit. But we don’t know if the Reavers will board?”

“Clever,” Merlin gave him a strained smile; Lance put an arm on Arthur’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “No, we don’t know if they’ll board. They might not be hungry. They might have a goal in mind for where they’re going. The last time, we got lucky. We might not get as lucky this time. Anyone who has anything that smells – get it in the halls of the ship. But make sure you inject this serum within five minutes, and get yourself either into your quarters, or some tight space that’s hidden from view. Now don’t argue. Just go.”

No one moved from the room, but they took their syringes from Gaius’s outstretched hands regardless. Finally, Merlin spoke again, eyes meeting Arthur’s across the room.

“Arthur,” he said quietly. “Will you stay with me?”

Arthur didn’t give himself time to think about it, only saying exactly what he felt. “Of course.”

* * *

 

“You won’t feel anything,” Merlin whispered to him in the darkness of the compartment of the cargo bay they’d buried themselves in. Merlin had emptied the merchandise out of one of the crates for them to climb inside, Arthur on top of Merlin so that if anyone bothered to search them, they’d see him first. The syringe was cool against Arthur’s veins. “I promise, no matter what happens, you won’t feel anything.”

Darkness slipped over Arthur shortly after, but he remained aware of Merlin’s breath on his neck until the last second.

Against what seemed to be all odds, it felt like only a moment later he opened his eyes; Merlin stood above him now, his blue eyes filled with tears, his lip bloody with bite marks, his body trembling.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked groggily, his brain trying to make connections. “What – what happened?”

He sat up to find that Merlin was not the only one there. Lance and Gaius were crouching next to him, their faces not nearly as wrecked as Merlin’s, but still pale, shaky, and wide-eyed.

“They didn’t board us?” He tried again when Merlin didn’t answer, just gazed at him with eyes unflinching even amongst the pain evident on his features.

Lance answered for him. “I don’t think so, but then again, we weren’t conscious. I didn’t think this would ever work if they actually boarded, but Merlin said –”

“Footsteps,” Merlin whispered, scratchy and shaking. “There were footsteps.”

“But Reavers are a violent kind of creature, surely there just wouldn’t _just_ be –”

“I know what I heard,” Merlin cut him off, his face set in hard lines as he glared at Lance. “And there were footsteps. I know Aithusa’s sounds better than I know my own name. _Someone_ came aboard.”

“Whoever it was,” Lance shot Merlin a look, “they’re gone now. We’ve checked the ship thoroughly, done scans for life on the monitor and all that. There’s nothing here. And the ship overhead has passed; whoever it was, Reavers or not, left a long time ago.”

Lance stood up, reaching a hand toward Arthur to help him up. He took it, but a spasm of pain went through his leg as he tried to bend it. He hissed out a curse word, squeezing his eyes closed, and the next he saw, Merlin had a hold of his other hand, the nightmarish look in his eye seemingly vanished.

“You were hurt before,” Merlin grasped at one of his shoulders, Lance at the other, as they pulled him to his feet. “I forgot – two hours in a box would hardly help. Lance, go wake the others. Gaius, can you help me take him the medical bay?”

“It’s really not necessary –” Arthur tried to tell them, but Lance had already transferred his other arm to Gaius, and the two men pulled him out the compartment and into the cargo bay. “I’m really not hurt, it’s just an old injury,” he explained as they took him down the stairs and situated him on Gaius’s sterile white table.

“Looks to me like you took a knife there once,” Gaius said as he rolled up Arthur’s pant leg, running a wrinkled finger across the purple scar Arthur knew would be on his knee forever. Merlin frowned down at Arthur from where he stood, leaning against the door to the medic bay.

“Bad client?” Merlin asked softly and Arthur quickly shook his head, not liking the pity in Merlin’s eyes. The real story was much better, and with it, he could prove to Merlin that he wasn’t _just_ a Companion, had been meant for greater things.

“No, this happened _long_ before I was registered,” he explained. “I was never supposed to be a Companion; from the time I was small, I was enrolled in military training on Londinium. My father wanted me to lead the Alliance army when I grew up. But when I was fifteen, a boy sliced open my knee. I’ve had trouble with it ever since, but the real trouble was that I couldn’t stay in the elite training program. They didn’t allow anyone to train that wasn’t in peak physical condition. So my father sent me to Sihnon instead.”

Arthur hoped, and somewhat expected, that Merlin would suddenly be as impressed with Arthur as Arthur was with him, but Merlin’s eyes didn’t go bright around in the edges. If anything, they grew impossibly cloudier. Even Gaius looked up at him and, unusually, just stared, no eyebrow raised in judgment.

“You –” Merlin cleared his throat forcefully. “You were going to fight with the Alliance?”

“It was my father’s grand plan,” Arthur explained, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what was going through Merlin’s head. “Are you alright? Maybe Gaius should take a look –”

“I’m fine,” Merlin’s said, his voice sharper than it had ever been when addressing Arthur. He was taken aback by it, not sure why Merlin suddenly seemed so distant from him. “I should check on the others.”

He was gone a second later, and Arthur wondered where all of his concern had gone. “Is he still – was that about the Reavers? The footsteps?” He asked Gaius as the old man rose to his feet, his expression grave.

“No, my boy, I think that was about you,” Gaius told him, but his voice was softer than Arthur had ever heard it. “Merlin’s never told you?”

Arthur shook his head mutely, not having any idea where Gaius was going with this, but hating the idea that Merlin had purposefully kept something from him.

“Arthur,” Gaius said pityingly, “Merlin fought with the Independence. He was a Browncoat.”

Air seemed to disappear from Arthur’s lungs as he stared up at Gaius, unwilling to comprehend.

“I – really? No, he couldn’t have,” Arthur insisted, fingernails sharp against his skin, trying to understand why Gaius was lying to him. “Merlin’s not a solider, Merlin’s –”

 _Too good to be a soldier_ , Arthur wanted to finish but couldn’t make himself say the words.

Gaius clucked his tongue before letting out a deep sigh. “He probably thought the same about you,” Gaius told him gently. “Don’t look so forlorn, Arthur. The war’s been over for years. Surely the two of you can keep the past in the past. He’s not your enemy.”

There was something wrong with that sentiment, Arthur realized as his eyes traveled from Gaius’s to his still-aching knee. Slowly, he realized he wasn’t upset that Merlin had fought against his side in a war; that he’d rebelled against the Alliance, a system Arthur had been a part of all his life.

He could pretend he was upset for any of those reasons, and probably would say so if anyone asked him. But underneath all of that, he knew the reason that he was upset.

“But he never told me.”

* * *

 

The ship seemed much colder after that day.

In the week that it took Aithusa to arrive at Deadwood, Merlin hadn’t spoken to Arthur once. He wasn’t ever openly hostile by any means; if the crew was together for dinner at night, he would stay and talk and laugh, but the laughter never quite reached his eyes. When they had a Chinese checkers tournament, Merlin participated, but Arthur knew that he purposefully lost so as not to have to play a game alone with Arthur.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gwen said, patting his arm after one night when Merlin turned down the opposite hallway to avoid Arthur’s gaze. “He gets distant like this sometimes. After that Reaver incident, I don’t blame him. I’m sure he’s only avoiding you ‘specially ‘cause he don’t want you to see him like this.”

Arthur wished he could believe her, but he knew that Merlin really was upset with him. If it were about anything else, Arthur would confront him without hesitation, but this wasn’t something Arthur could change. His past was his past and there was nothing he could do about it, just like how Merlin’s past couldn’t be changed just because Arthur didn’t want to think of him as a soldier in battle. He wanted to think of Merlin sitting on top of that hill in Athens in all that green, his hand just barely touching Arthur’s with that bright smile of his lighting up his face.

When they arrived on Deadwood, Arthur took the first client who would have him. She was a homely girl even taller and heavier than he was, but Arthur couldn’t care less; he needed to his mind off of the hopelessness he’d been feeling.

Aithusa was spending three nights here, however, and Arthur couldn’t just sit on board stewing over how he could possibly fix this impossible situation. Despite the fact that Deadwood was hardly full of people rich enough to afford him, Arthur traveled four hours to the capital city, hoping someone there would be able to make him forget his name.

He returned just before dusk on their day of departure. Merlin and Gwaine were standing in the cargo bay when he arrived. Arthur made no move to speak with them, but that didn’t stop Merlin, voice hard, from saying “you’re late.”

“Won’t happen again,” Arthur said crisply as he walked past them, not meeting Merlin’s eye, but he saw Gwaine shoot him a questioning look. Arthur ignored it and headed to his chambers, not in the mood to deal with the suffocation of the ship for another two weeks without break.

“I’m figuring that we don’t go through Georgia, that it’ll be quicker just to head straight to Persephone,” Merlin told everyone over dinner later that night. “I never thought I’d say this, but I want to get back in the Core as soon as we can.”

Arthur should have kept quiet but, as always, his temper got the better of it. Violence and hostility was something he could handle. Being ignored grated at him like nothing else. “You told me we would be stopping on Boros,” he said sharply. “I have clients that I cannot disappoint. _I_ happen to be a professional.”

Merlin stared at him for a moment, eyes hard. The tension between them was palpable, and Arthur could tell that the crew was shifting uncomfortably around them. “Fine. Two days on Boros for Arthur. Leon, take the night off. I’ll pilot her for a while.”

Arthur sat in awkward silence for a moment as Merlin stalked from the room; everyone else’s eyes settled on him. Gwen and Gaius’s eyes pitied him, while the rest of the crew looked as if the rules of the ‘verse had just changed irrevocably and without warning. He stood up as well, his chair scraping across the floor.

“Going to sleep,” he muttered, leaving their judging stares behind as he stalked to his shuttle. Wanting to quiet his thoughts, he took the bottle of gin from one of his bedside drawers and downed the little bit that was left as he fell backwards onto his bed which rocked slightly beneath him.

Someone cleared their throat in his antechamber and Arthur shot back up, hoping that it was Merlin. But he was surprised and more than a bit annoyed to see Gwaine standing next to his door, shifty-eyed and uncomfortable.

“What is it?” Arthur snapped, slamming his gin bottle down on the table. “I’m really not in the mood to be called a whore right now, Gwaine.”

Gwaine had the decency to look embarrassed. “I ain’t here to call you names. I wanna…I dunno, apologize to you.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. The sentiment would have been appreciated weeks ago; right now all Arthur felt was a twinge of annoyance at his timing. “Alright. Go ahead.”

Gwaine sighed, looking more serious than Arthur had seen him as he stepped fully into the room. “Look. I didn’t like you comin’ aboard; you already know that much. I thought you was a security hazard, with your daddy’s background and that silver spoon in your mouth. Plus, the way Merlin talked of you…looks at you…I was jealous, alright? I’m man enough to own up to that.”

“I thought you were,” Arthur recognized. “Though I wasn’t quite sure what you had to be jealous of; Merlin and I are hardly close.”

“Yeah, you are,” Gwaine very nearly rolled his eyes at him. “Merlin don’t let people in much, and never took to anyone as quick as he took to you. I’ve been his friend for twenty years and I ain’t never got him to look at me like that. I never hated you, Arthur – just the idea of you. I was wrong about that. I’ll own up to that, too.”

“Yeah?” Arthur let out a breath of almost-laughter. “What made you change your mind?”

“This past week or so,” Gwaine said, shaking his head sadly. “I thought Merlin was all spooked by the Reavers. But I realized that’s not it. It’s you. Something happened with you and now Merlin’s unhappy, unhappy as I’ve seen him in a long while. Merlin ain’t never gonna look at me like he looks at you, but I want him happy more than anything else in the damn ‘verse.”

“You didn’t need to tell me Merlin was angry with me,” Arthur pointed out, though he let kindness seep through his voice, grateful that Gwaine was here, explaining himself, letting Arthur understand him. He didn’t quite understand what he meant about the way Merlin looked at him, however; even before all this had happened, Merlin didn’t look at Arthur differently than he’d looked at anyone else in his crew.

“No, but I’m here to tell you that I’m gonna stick up for you,” Gwaine said, nodding in complete seriousness. “Merlin shouted some sense into me about you, and now I’m gonna return the favor and shout some sense into him. Whatever you did, whatever he did, it don’t matter if the both of you are miserable.”

“Maybe it does,” Arthur admitted, squeezing his eyes shut before he said, “I wasn’t supposed to be a Companion, Gwaine. I was supposed to fight for the Alliance. I never fought, but – I told him that I was trained to be an elite Alliance soldier. I didn’t realize that he’d fought in the war on – on the other side.”

When he opened his eyes, Gwaine’s look toward him had the same kind of pity that Gaius’s looks had. He’d never seen Gwaine look like that before.

“Well, I’m not in place to say much about the war,” Gwaine said quietly after a moment. “I was in a haze of drunkenness and debauchery for most of it. But the way I see it, Merlin was born on the Rim and you was born on the Core. I ain’t sayin’ the Alliance is right to do what they did, but seems to me that the way a man is born dictates who they are when they’re young. But you and Merlin ain’t so young anymore, and you both chose to be on this hunk of metal flying in the sky.”

He shrugged, a glimmer of mischievousness back in his eye. “I figure that counts for somethin’.”

Arthur hoped Merlin felt the same way.

* * *

 

The next night, Merlin wasn’t at dinner. Gwaine, however, was, and winked at Arthur as he took a seat. “What’re we eatin’?” He asked loudly. “Let me guess – is it – protein blocks?”

“Gee, I wonder,” Leon snorted, tossing Gwaine one of the alleged and despised protein blocks that populated their kitchen. “Eat up. It’s all we’ve got ‘til we’re back on the Core.”

“I figure that we can splurge on Boros a bit and by some fresh fruit,” Gwen declared as she squinted down at her own protein. “We deserve it after weeks of this _fei-oo_.”

Arthur let them all talk around him, but he couldn’t keep his food down, and didn’t think it had too much to do with protein and more to do with the remnants of a hangover. “I’ll see you all tomorrow,” he muttered, leaving behind a few curious and pitying faces.

He stopped short outside his door, however; Merlin was sitting, leaning against it, a faraway and unfocused look in his eye. He didn’t see Arthur at first, too busy shifting out of focus, so Arthur stared at him for a moment; his messy hair, the bags under his eyes, his miserable expression that mirrored Arthur’s own.

Finally, Arthur cleared his throat, heart in his chest, daring to hope.

“Didn’t wanna go in without you there,” Merlin said quietly, not quite meeting Arthur’s eye. When Arthur stepped forward, however, Merlin heaved himself upward, following him inside the small quarters. Arthur gestured toward the chair in the mock-sitting room and Merlin sat, curling his knees to his chest in a way that Arthur’s injury had never permitted him to do. He sat on the couch opposite Merlin instead, knees remaining only partially bent.

They were quiet for a moment as Arthur lit one of his incense-burning candles. Merlin hadn’t been in his quarters since they had moved his things in; Arthur wasn’t sure why. Maybe Merlin felt uncomfortable here, in a place where Arthur laid with his clients. Maybe it had just never come up.

“I thought that I’d have nightmares about those footsteps,” Merlin said after a moment, voice strained. Arthur frowned; he hadn’t been expecting to hear about the Reavers, but maybe that had been bothering Merlin all along. “Nightmares have haunted me ever since – since Serenity Valley. I had a bomb go off not ten feet from me. A phantom of that bomb wakes me up nearly every night. On one of the last days of fighting, I killed a man with a knife to the gut. I felt him die in my arms. Even though I had killed plenty of people before, it had always been from a distance, always with a gun. Death had never felt so – so personal. I almost cried when the light left his eyes.”

Merlin stopped for a moment, biting his lip so hard that drops of bled appeared. “I don’t dream about the footsteps, Arthur. I just dream that the soldier I killed had your face.”

Arthur swallowed, nearly shrinking in on himself at the emotional admission, not knowing how to cope with such a thought.

Thankfully, Merlin continued so that he didn’t have to react. “I’m not mad at you. I thought I was. But Gwaine talked some sense for a change and I realized – I’m just so afraid of what the world would have looked like if you would have been a soldier. If I would have met you on a battlefield. If we’d have killed each other without ever knowing…”

“I didn’t fight, though,” Arthur said after a moment, his voice heavy yet still trying to reach Merlin. “That’s not what happened. It’s just…just a could-have-been.”

“A could-have-been that scares the shit out of me,” Merlin said, and it was only then that Arthur noticed the tears in his voice. “I’m not scared of Reavers, Arthur. I’ve never been scared of Reavers. I’m afraid of losing my crew. Losing…losing _you_.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Arthur said quietly. “You’re…”

_You’re the best thing that ever happened to me._

“You’re a good man, and a good friend,” Arthur said instead. “I don’t want to lose that friendship, not because of a situation I had no control over…that I can’t change.”

Merlin’s eyes were sympathetic, the tears from earlier evaporating with time. “That was the point Gwaine made. That it wasn’t your _choice_ to be trained as an Alliance soldier. And I know it wasn’t. From what you’ve told me, it wasn’t even your choice to be a Companion. I can’t be angry at you for the way you were born, especially since you’ve hardly been angry with me for being a Browncoat.”

“At least now I know why you wear that jacket and the ridiculous scarf,” Arthur said, trying to make a joke but knowing that it fell flat. Merlin chuckled at him anyway. “You’re right, though. For most of my life, I wasn’t in control. I let other people make my decisions for me.”

He met Merlin’s eye. “My first real decision…was to come here. With you.”

Merlin’s smile lit up his face. Arthur hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that. A weight lifted from his shoulders.

“Well, my first real decision was to fight in a war,” Merlin chuckled lightly, uncurling his legs and leaning forward to face Arthur, looking more like his captain again and less like a scared little boy afraid of the dark. “Hard to say which of us made the poorer choice.”

“Tell me. Tell me about the war,” Arthur requested hesitantly. His father would be furious to find that Arthur actually cared about knowing.

“I…” Merlin’s eyebrows creased together as if no one had ever asked for this particular story. “I was fifteen when the war broke out. I was living on Osiris at the time, studying to be a doctor.”

“Your perfect English,” Arthur marveled as Merlin nodded, a slight blush on his cheeks. “How’d a boy from the Border to get to go to a school like that?”

“Gaius was from Osiris, but made friends with my mother when she lived there briefly,” Merlin explained. “He came to Athens to help take care of me when I was born. He pulled the strings for me. I didn’t join the war effort until I was sixteen because I didn’t want to let him down, but soon it was just too difficult to bear. I quit school, went back home, and lied about my age to the recruitment officer to get enlisted.”

Arthur stared at his hands, glad that Merlin too had dealt with the expectations of others, and yet wishing that it had only taken him a year to figure out that he had to make his own choices and not let the world dictate them for him.

“I met Lance then – we were both just foot soldiers, both too young to be there – we had each other’s backs all four years. My friend Will was there, too.” Merlin looked down. “He died in Serenity Valley.”

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur told him, not even beginning to understand what a loss that could be. Merlin had known Will all his life; that would be like Arthur losing Morgana. He shuddered at the thought.

Merlin shrugged, but the pain on his face was evident. “It was a long time ago. Anyway, once the Alliance beat us, I started doing mining runs on Regina.”

Arthur shot him a shocked look. “Isn’t – that supposed to be one of the dangerous jobs in the ‘verse?” He asked, a protective feeling rising in his chest. “Isn’t there only a thirty percent chance survival rate?”

“You know your math,” Merlin acknowledged and Arthur tried not to wince. “But I was quick and clever and it paid well, and within two years, I had enough money to buy Aithusa. Found Lance again to be my first mate. Gwaine didn’t fight in the war – too busy being drunk – but I got him sorted out enough to be on my ship. Here we are, seven years later.”

“Quite a story,” Arthur stared at his hands. “Not nearly as interesting as mine.”

Merlin snorted. “Now I’m sure that’s not true. Were you upset that you couldn’t be a soldier?”

“Very,” Arthur answered truthfully. “I’d spent all of my life thinking that being a soldier would be the only way to make my father proud of me. And I never dreamed of becoming a Companion. I’d always shown them the proper respect, but there was a difference between respect and…and doing their work.”

Arthur felt a sour taste in his mouth, but kept talking nonetheless. “I hated Companion training for the first few years. The other boys despised me because I started later than they did and still managed to best them every fencing class.”

Merlin chuckled, his eyes bright as he looked over Arthur. “Isn’t Companion training very difficult, though?” He asked. “How did you catch up?”

“Well, I barely passed my final exams, for one thing,” Arthur said, laughing slightly, not nearly as upset about it now as he had been then. “I was too rubbish at languages and music. But being a Companion never made sense to me until I could put it in military terms. I was training to be an officer, a tactician; to look at a terrain, my army, an enemy army – then pinpoint their strengths and weaknesses, their blind spots, the ways that they operated. I was planning on doing it in war; now I just use the same system for people and what makes them tick.”

“An army tactician,” Merlin mused for a moment, shaking his head. “Who would’ve thought? Lance and I were only ever foot soldiers, nothing fancy like that. We could sure use you when we plan out our jobs, though, if that’s how your mind works. Every time we sit down to plan a drop, Gwaine’s opinion is to ‘ _shoot ‘em in their throats’_ , and I spend the bulk of my timing making sure he _doesn’t_ do that. Doesn’t leave a lot of room for tactical planning.”

“I can help,” Arthur found his mouth saying without his head catching up to it, “if you wanted me to. I don’t mind.”

Merlin gave him a surprised look, but his features softened into those of gentleness. “You’d become an accomplice in crime? Just for us?” He joked, but his tone conveyed the utmost gratefulness.

“I’m already one,’” Arthur said fondly. “And I may as well make sure I still have a way back to the Core whenever you go out on jobs.”

“Okay,” Merlin grinned, face lighting up. “Next time we get a job, you can look over our plans and tell us what we’re missing.”

-

“So my original plan was to have the ship fly low enough so that we could jump onto the train roof and weld a hole in the top. We couldn’t get out the same way because the ship’s too big to swing low for that long, so we’d make our way to the goods and get them in our packs –”

“Packs are a bad idea,” Arthur interrupted, but Merlin didn’t look too put out, just listened intently to what Arthur said next as they sat opposite one another at the dining table. Lance and Gwaine sat on the other two sides of the table, and to Arthur’s surprise, they were showing his ideas respect as well. “A station like this will have their security team search bags that aren’t already in the area designated for luggage. You could probably steal someone else’s bag to put the goods in.”

“The theft would be reported, though,” Lance pointed out evenly, “and then security would check _all_ of the bags and we would never make it off the train without being caught.”

“And a hole welded in the ceiling wouldn’t be reported?” Gwaine gave Merlin a look, but Merlin shook his head.

“If it doesn’t affect passengers, then the chances of it being found before the train stops aren’t high.”

“What about our ship, though?” Arthur wondered aloud. “That would attract a fair bit of attention. You already said it was too big to escape on, so wouldn’t it also be too big to drop you onboard? At least in terms of attracting attention.”

Merlin acknowledged Arthur’s point with a wince. “Train jobs are never easy.”

“You could use my shuttle,” Arthur realized after a moment’s quiet. “That would be small enough not to gain too much attention, and maybe you could escape on it as well.”

Merlin nodded slowly as Lance shot Arthur a grateful smile. “That might work. Leon’s not used to flying a shuttle but he’s a good enough pilot to make it work. I’m more hesitant to have it stick around the train, though, but if it’s our only option, then it’s our only option. I’ll have Leon drop Lance and I off –”

“Hey!” Gwaine glared at Merlin playfully, but Merlin just brushed it off with a look.

“Worry not. You’ll be along – _you’re_ going to weld the hole.” Gwaine sent a sulky look across the table as Merlin smirked. “You’re such a pouter. Arthur, thanks for letting us use your shuttle.”

“It’s _your_ shuttle,” Arthur pointed out.

“But _you’ve_ paid for it.”

“It belongs on _your_ ship.”

“Suffice to say,” Lance interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “that we’re very grateful for your help, Arthur.”

Arthur tried to hide his smile.

* * *

 

Since the crew was using his shuttle for the train job, Arthur couldn’t take a client while they were away. Knowing this, Gaius suggested that the two of them play a game of Chinese checkers. Arthur hadn’t beaten Gaius once in all of the months that he’d lived on Aithusa and was willing to face defeat again for the slimmest chance of victory.

It wasn’t an hour after the crew had left, however, that Gwen burst into the medical bay with her face covered in soot and with her lower lip trembling.

“Gwen, what is it?” Arthur jumped up immediately upon seeing the tears in the corner of her eyes.

“Alliance security boarded the train unexpectedly,” she said and Arthur heard Gaius’s hiss of worry from behind him, his own stomach churning unpleasantly at the news. “Obviously Leon can’t get to them now. We’re not sure of Lance and Merlin have the goods yet, but if they do, the Alliance will be searching them. They’re clever enough to dump them, but if they were caught off-guard –”

“Where are Leon’s coordinates?” Arthur asked, ideas already racing through his mind at the best course of action. Merlin and Lance were both extremely smart and capable and might find a way out of this on their own, but they couldn’t count on that. Leon’s hands were tied as far as piloting went, and Gwaine could hardly go in and start shooting Alliance members in a crowd of civilians.

“I can ask,” Gwen said anxiously. “They don’t have papers, so they’ll be under suspicion either way. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“I have papers,” Arthur reminded her. “If I can get to where the Alliance is holding up the train, hopefully I can cover for them.”

“Would you?” Gwen’s face was still nervous beyond belief, but her eyes shining gratefully was reward enough for whatever Arthur was about to do. “You’re such a good man, Arthur.”

“Tell me that once I actually do something, yeah?”

* * *

 

Since Leon had his shuttle, Arthur took Merlin’s transport vehicle, figuring that no one would mind. Leon had sent the coordinates of where the train was stopped; apparently, the Alliance had set up yet another checkpoint, spreading their reach further and further across the ‘verse. Arthur wouldn’t have thought much of it before, but now it made him on edge, even more so than he already was.

When he was younger, Morgana would always tell him what a terrible liar he was, but Companion training had beat that out of him quickly enough; Companionship was all _about_ lying, and it wasn’t long before Arthur had a story that he could spin for the Alliance guards. He hoped that Merlin and Lance caught on quickly enough so as not to give anything away.

“Sir,” the Alliance officer on guard outside the facility that the train was stopped at greeted him coolly and professionally, “this train is not available to board, this is merely a security checkpoint. If you’re looking for transportation –”

“I’m not,” Arthur interrupted haughtily. “I’m looking for two someones who boarded this train, most likely without paperwork.”

“I’d need some kind of security clearance –”

Arthur’s papers did the trick; this guard didn’t turn nearly as white as the last Alliance officer Arthur had threatened, but he still turned immediately and led Arthur through the busy checkpoint filled with the train’s dusty and ragged passengers, all looking nervous and out of place.

“Sir, these are all of the passengers from the train,” the guard told him stiffly as he gestured about the large, open room. “We have not finished checking everyone for proof of passage, but we have not run into any difficulties yet, so I am unsure of whom you could be referring –”

Arthur eyes had been wandering the room as he spoke, and it didn’t take him long to catch sight of the back of Merlin’s head fifty feet away. He broke off the guard’s speech by striding past him purposefully and trying not to show how much of a rush he was in to see if Merlin was alright. The guard followed a few steps behind him.

Arthur’s shoulders sagged in relief as he saw Merlin and Lance sitting quietly in the crowd, their heads bent together, looking nervous and shaken but altogether whole. Merlin’s eyes flickered up and he clearly caught sight of Arthur, for his expression changed from one of nervous urgency to one of astonishment.

Arthur wasn’t going to give Merlin too much time to be in awe of him, despite how nice it might feel; Merlin stood up as Arthur reached him and Arthur pulled him tightly into a hug.

“What –?” Merlin breathed into his ear, his body warm against Arthur’s, but Arthur shushed him, letting go before he could ask anything else. He moved on to hug Lance as well, who didn’t ask any questions, just squeezed him back.

“My cousins,” Arthur declared to the guard as he turned around to face the confused officer. “They were traveling from here on the Border to meet me and my sister on Persephone for a family gathering, but we received news from them two weeks that their papers had been stolen by pirates and that they had barely escaped with their lives. I agreed to travel and meet them here, but they must have been further away than I thought; how on earth did you two manage to board a train without your papers?” He didn’t give them time to fabricate an answer. “Must be cleverer than I thought, eh? I thought all of the intelligence was on my side of the family.”

He laughed loudly, Merlin and Lance taking his cue, both of them quickly looking more at ease. Whether that was pretending for the sake of the guard or an actual feeling, Arthur wasn’t sure, but he did know that the guard didn’t look quite so put out.

“I would really appreciate it,” Arthur stepped toward the guard, a coin glinting in his hand, “if you could let my cousins and I go without a fuss; my family would be very grateful. You see, my sister is an impatient woman and we’re putting a hole in her busy schedule – I’m sure you understand, good-looking chap like you must know a woman as… _vivacious_ as my sister.”

“It’s, ah, against protocol,” the guard said hastily, but his eyes were hungrily affixed upon the gold, “though I’m sure we could…make an arrangement. Especially with someone of your…stature.” His hungry eyes suddenly were not on the gold any longer. “A night with you and your sister would be payment enough.”

Arthur’s skin crawled; he heard a scuffling noise behind him that was clearly Merlin trying to reign in his anger.

But Arthur was more than capable of defending himself.

He smiled at the officer.

_Smack._

The officer stumbled blindly backwards as Arthur’s fist drew away from his shuddering form. “You bastard,” Arthur said almost pleasantly as the officer glared up at him; the passengers’ eyes had suddenly been drawn to them, and another Alliance officer stepped forward, hand on his gun and expression steady.

“Sir, please –”

Arthur whirled toward the other officer, his indignation no longer faked. “Hello, officer. I’m a Companion registered with the Guild, here from Londinium to pick up my family. This officer here not only propositioned me, but did so in the guise of not letting my family members come with me if I did not cede to his wishes. The Guild laws not only state that Companions can only be contacted for their services through the proper channels, but that the coercion of a Companion is an offense punishable by prison time. I suggest,” Arthur finished, eyes flashing, “that you let me and my family go immediately before I press charges.”

The officer marched toward the spectacle, but his dangerous gaze was clearly on the other officer, who had least had the decency to look ashamed of himself; it wasn’t like Arthur hadn’t spoken a word that wasn’t true.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the senior guard told him tightly, still glaring at his underling. “If you can just show me the proper identification, you can be on your way.”

Arthur got away with just showing the officer his papers, pretending to be angry with the officer for having the audacity to ask for Merlin and Lance’s papers after such an ordeal, that his would speak enough. The officer had looked down in embarrassment, and the three of them were let go.

“Damn,” Lance whistled as they exited the building, heading in the direction of the transport vehicle. “I was holding Merlin back from clocking that son of a bitch, but apparently I should have been keeping a closer eye on you.”

Arthur shrugged modestly as Merlin, from his other side, looped an arm around Arthur’s waist and pulled him closer to him. Arthur didn’t give himself much time to like the feeling of Merlin’s hand on his waist, and Merlin started talking anyway. “Stop saving my neck,” Merlin muttered. “Don’t want you in any trouble.”

“Well, I don’t want you in trouble either, but trouble always seems to find you, doesn’t it, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur joked and Merlin pulled him even closer to him in a kind of hug.

“Well, I’m definitely paying you for this –” Merlin started as he let go of Arthur to pull himself into the driver’s seat of the transport vehicle, Arthur and Lance squeezing in next to him, their thighs touching.

“You’re not paying me,” Arthur interrupted, almost laughing at the idea as Merlin pulled away from the checkpoint and into the dusty sunset. “I make a hell of a lot more money than you do.”

“Yes, but I pay the people who help me on drops, and therefore you’re getting ten percent of the profit from this job,” Merlin explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Arthur and Lance, however, exchanged a confused look.

“Merlin, this job was botched,” Lance pointed out. “We didn’t _make a_ profit.”

Merlin turned his head to grin at them, his hair blowing around his face in the wind. “Jewelry is in my left boot. What?” He asked when Lance made a disgusted noise. “I would never go on a job this important without wearing my overlarge boots.”

“What would you have done if they stripped us?” Lance lamented. “What then? Gods, Merlin, be more fucking sensible.”

“Anyway,” Merlin declared over the rush of the engine noise, “Arthur, you’re getting ten percent of the profit.”

“No, I’m not,” Arthur argued.

“ _Yes_ , you are.”

“I am _not_.”

“You _are._ ”

The argument carried them all the way back to Aithusa.

* * *

 

“I won’t accept the fucking payment, Merlin.”

“Fine then; I’m knocking a month’s rent off of your shuttle. Maybe two for all of the work you did on the Spinrad job.”

“All I did was draw up an escape route for you to take through the mountains. That’s hardly worth a month’s rent.”

“Then for coming with us on Regina.”

“You needed an extra pair of hands!”

“Exactly, so let me fucking pay you!”

“You can’t afford it! You can barely afford fuel!”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

Unsurprisingly, the argument persisted through the following months. The more Arthur did to help on their drops, the more insistent Merlin grew about wanting to give him a share of the money. He’d dropped his original bid of ten percent down to five, but Arthur refused to take it.

The way he saw it, working the jobs were reward enough; at this point, he was only taking enough clients to cover the rent of his shuttle, and he still had plenty of savings besides that. The rest of the time, he helped the others plan their drops, most of which involved stealing and transporting goods, especially food, across the ‘verse. It was interesting work, and Arthur was good at finding loopholes in planetary laws and drawing up strategies to help his friends avoid dangerous situations.

And yet Merlin kept insisting on the money that Arthur didn’t need. Aithusa was enough payment for him.

 “Arthur don’t want no money, Merlin, and I don’t blame him,” Gwen interrupted their typical dinnertime argument with a roll of her eyes. “He’s helpin’ us out because he likes us, not because he’s a thief. He don’t want no profit from thievin’, he’s a respectable sort.”

That really wasn’t the reason, or at least only part of it, but Arthur appreciated Gwen defending his side of the story. Gwaine, however, let out a large-bellied laugh, slapping Arthur a little too hardly on the back as he pulled out the chair next to his, already snacking on a plate of protein.

“Arthur’s one of us now,” Gwaine declared to the room; it was a rare time when everyone was present for dinner. Merlin insisted that they eat together at least while they were in deep space and no one needed to man the bridge. “He’s a thievin’ scumbag like us all, he’s just havin’ some difficulty acceptin’ it.”

Arthur wasn’t sure about being a thieving scumbag, but it still made him smile that Gwaine thought he was one of them. The rest of it was Gwaine just being typical Gwaine, putting words in as irritating a tone as possible.

“You’re better at thieving than I ever was,” Leon informed him, stabbing his protein with a dark look in his eye; it was their second week in deep space and it was the only thing they had left that resembled food. “I don’t go on drops unless they need a pilot. I’d shit myself pulling the kind of stunts these jokers do.”

“It’s a good time,” Arthur said with a shrug, eating his own protein with only minimal face-making. “Rather be thieving than with a client.”

He hadn’t really meant to be that truthful about it; Arthur didn’t think he had talked about Companionship much with the crew, and their curious eyes confirmed it.

“It hard?” Gwen asked after a beat. “Bein’ a Companion?”

Arthur hesitated, not really accustomed to sharing these details with anyone but his sister, who automatically understood. He was about to shrug it off, but Merlin, traces of their argument no longer in his eyes, only looking at Arthur with full and rapt attention from across the table, gave him the courage to keep talking.

“Some clients are good. Some aren’t,” Arthur explained slowly. “People out here on the Rim are less…power-hungry than those on Londinium, which makes it easier.”

“Why?” Leon asked, and it was then that Arthur noticed that no other conversation was going around the table; all focus was on him. He swallowed before continuing.

“Being hired as a Companion on Londinium, especially for a public affair and especially by a man, is a display of power. It’s not like two men could ever get married on Londinium, but men will take male Companions just to prove that they can do what they wish with other men, make them bend to their will.”

“Fucking Cenred,” Merlin interrupted with a mutter and Arthur nodded in agreement.

“The women are a little better, generally, but all politicians like power trips. Gender doesn’t stop that. And women tend to want…more of me, I guess? Men don’t really care what I do as long as I don’t talk back, but women are picky and tend to get angrier when I don’t live up to their expectations. I suppose some men are like that, too, mainly the ones who want me to fuck them instead of the other way around. But out here on the Rim, people are excited to have a Companion at all. They’re more enthusiastic, not as finicky. I’ve had much better clients, generally speaking.”

“Companions choose their clients,” Gaius said after a moment, his voice gravelly but thoughtful. Arthur was actually a little honored that he was joining the conversation; most of the time, he found their dinnertime conversations silly and inane and made that very clear. “Wouldn’t you be able to avoid men and women you disliked?”

“Sometimes,” Arthur said, “if they’re returning clients. But I can’t get a good read on people until we meet in person. That’s when I figure out what makes them tick, what they like in a person, what kind of sex they want.”

“You know what gets a person hot just by talkin’ to ‘em once?” Gwaine broke the ice of the room with a hearty guffaw. “I don’t believe that.”

“I had five years of training, Gwaine,” Arthur remarked, raising an eyebrow a bit challengingly, glad that the conversation had veered off course into less dangerous grounds. “I had to be learning _something_.”

“You know what kind of sex I like?” Gwaine waggled as eyebrows at him, and Arthur heard snickers across the table.

His pride couldn’t just let that _go_.

“Kinky, obviously,” Arthur smirked and laughter rang across the table. From the look on his face, however, Gwaine wasn’t impressed, so Arthur kept going. “You like stimulation. You like making noise, and you _love_ it when your partner makes noise. You’re a showman; you’re not shy about anything that you’re doing, you _want_ people to know exactly what you’re doing. That’s not odd, though; the thing that strikes me most about you is that you don’t mind if you’re the one being tied up or the one who’s doing the tying. Just as long as there’s rope.”

Gwaine’s eyes grew wider as he finished, though not in fear or nervousness – he was an exhibitionist, as Arthur pointed out. But he was impressed, Arthur could tell, and he felt a swell of pride inside of him as the table laughed, realizing that Arthur was spot on.

“Well, I think it’s only fair that he does the rest of you,” Gwaine pretended to be disgruntled, but a smile danced underneath his moustache.

“If he’s alright with it,” Merlin said, voice even, but his look at Arthur told him very clearly that he would put a stop to it if Arthur wanted him to. Arthur just shook his head, smiling.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “It’s all of you whose secrets I’m exposing. Are you sure _you’re_ alright with it?”

“Do me next!” Gwen grinned in response and Arthur laughed.

“Okay,” he started, thinking back to his first interactions with Gwen. “You’re on the adventurous side, willing to try anything as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. You’re one of those rare people who could have the same kind of sex every day for a year and not get bored, just because you like the sensation, not the creativity. You’re open to something creative, though, and much like you are in your job, you’re not afraid to get dirty. And you _definitely_ want a threesome with my sister.”

Gwen blushed beet red and Gwaine nearly choked on his drink. Arthur glanced at Leon to see if he reacted badly, but he just had an arm around Gwen, squeezing her tightly through her embarrassment, so Arthur decided to keep going. “Now Leon’s thinking about a threesome with my sister, and he’s definitely not opposed to the idea. He’s the same kind of sex every day kind of guy, though, an if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it sort. When Gwen gets creative, he’ll do anything she’d like, though – because he loves her.”

Now it was Leon’s turn to blush, but Gwen ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek, her own embarrassment gone by the wayside.

“Lance,” Arthur said, turning to the next chair, the other man mock-wincing for impact. “You’re a very religious man, and a kind and honorable one as well, which means I’m betting even _you_ don’t know what kind of sex you like because you’ve never been married, and have therefore never had any.”

Gwaine’s drink came out of his nose and Leon held a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, but Lance didn’t even blush, just nodded solemnly.

“It’s hardly an embarrassment,” he informed the table at large with a fond roll of his eyes. “I’m just waiting for the right woman.”

Arthur turned to the next chair at the table – Gaius. The old man raised an eyebrow at him.

“To be honest, Gaius, I’ve tried very hard not to think about it.”

Gwaine practically roared with laughter, easily the most amused by this game, but everyone at the table took a minute to wipe a tear of laughter from the corner of their eye. While they were distracted, Gaius winked in Arthur’s direction.

“Which leaves Merlin,” Arthur said, heart going quicker for some reason as Merlin raised an eyebrow of his own in Arthur’s direction. “You’re…genuine. Sweet. Gentle. You’d talk all the way through it, of course, but not in an annoying way. You’d always make sure your partner was happy with whatever was happening. You…you’d take care of them. Make them feel safe. And loved.” Arthur cleared his throat, aware that no one was laughing anymore. “You like being in control, but you wouldn’t be afraid to be vulnerable with…with…someone you – trusted.”

“Inexplicably,” a gentle smile played on Merlin’s lips. “Cheater.”

“Only with the last part,” Arthur pointed out, but his breath seemed shorter than usual.

“As much fun as I’ve had,” Leon declared loudly after a beat, “I have to get back to the bridge. Arthur: thank you for telling everyone that I like boring sex. Though, if you wanted to talk to your sister about that threesome, I would not be averse to receiving an anniversary gift from you. Thank you and goodnight.”

Gwen cheered under her breath as Leon exited the room, Gwaine laughing and stumbling after him as he called “Leon! I’d have boring sex with you!”

“As illuminating as this evening has been,” Gaius stood up, shooting a pointed look at Arthur, “I think I’m going to leave such conversations well enough alone in the future. Arthur, if you’d ever like to discuss the healthcare provided for Companions, I would love to speak with you. Until then.”

“Thank you so much for not telling us what kind of sex my godfather likes,” Merlin muttered under his breath as Gwen took Gaius’s arm to lead him out through the hall. Lance followed them, shooting an odd look in Merlin and Arthur’s direction as he did so, but it was nice to be alone with Merlin. “I don’t ever need to know that.”

“I’ve tried hard to suppress any images that I’ve had, and I’ve known him less than a year,” Arthur said with a chuckle. “I can only imagine the terrors that live in your mind.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said quietly after a moment, and Arthur knew that this conversation would either end up going very well or very badly. “You can read people like you read battlegrounds. You know what kind of sex a person likes within moments of meeting them. But – what kind of sex do _you_ like?”

“What?” Arthur asked, forehead creasing, not expecting that question at all. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Merlin said slowly, eyes cautiously looking over at Arthur. “You told me that you’d never had sex with anyone who didn’t pay you for it. Which means that you _always_ have sex the way your client wants it. I’m just wondering…if you’re like Lance. If you don’t even know what kind of sex you like.”

“That’s absurd,” Arthur snorted. “I’ve had sex often enough to know what I like. I…” He hesitated, searching his mind for examples. “I…”

He stopped, biting his lip. Merlin’s eyes didn’t quite pity him, but they were certainly sad.

“Once,” Arthur said slowly after a moment, “I slept with a man who would ask permission before touching me. Whenever he wanted to do something new, he’d always ask if it was okay with me. Most clients won’t even ask that once, they’ll just take whatever they want, men and women alike. But he must have asked half a dozen times if I was alright. I guess – that’s what I like. Someone who asks. Beyond that…” Arthur sighed, looking at his hands. “I don’t know. I have sex the way I was trained to do it. I’ve never really thought about it before.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Merlin smiled lightly at him, that sad look still in his eyes as he patted Arthur’s hand with his own. “You’re more and more different every day. I’m sure that someday, you’ll figure it out for yourself.”

Merlin stood to leave before Arthur could ask him if he would help him figure it out.

It was just as well, Arthur thought as his fingernails dug into his skin. He was too scared to ask. Arthur Pendragon wasn’t afraid of much, but Merlin’s rejection would be hard to shake.

* * *

 

A week later, Aithusa returned to Persephone, but only for a few hours for Merlin to drop goods with his contacts. Apparently, their main benefactor, Perce, had sent a message about having some high profile gig that the crew buzzed about.

While the others went to see about the job, Arthur went with Leon to the marketplace just off of the Eavestown Docks to get some actual fruits and vegetables to have for dinner that night. However, their leisurely meander back to the ship was cut short as Leon nudged Arthur, pointing toward Aithusa in the distance.

The crew was back earlier than planned, waiting outside of the ship. Merlin and Lance sat on the transport vehicle parked just outside while Gwaine leaned against the ship itself. All of their eyes met Arthur’s as he and Leon hurried to meet them.

“Wonder what this is about?” Leon muttered to him as they walked; Arthur shrugged, having no idea, but not liking the nervousness in Merlin’s gaze when their eyes met.

“Hey,” Merlin’s voice matched his eyes, anxiety overwhelmingly clear. “Arthur, we gotta talk.”

“What about?” Arthur froze, wondering if it was serious, if Merlin was upset with him, if Merlin would kick him off of the ship. He knew logically that he hadn’t done anything too horrendous in the hour since he’d last seen Merlin, but now he had nerves jumping in his chest, wondering what could possibly be the matter.

“Got offered a mighty fine paying job today,” Gwaine told him, and instead of his usual laughing tone, his voice was serious, anxiety just as high. “Merlin here thinks we ought to ask you about it and for a change, I agree with him.”

Merlin cast Gwaine a warning look. “We should talk about this inside,” he said, gesturing for Arthur to follow him up the steps. Arthur exchanged a confused look with Leon as they all boarded the ship. No one moved, however, once they reached the cargo bay, simply stared at each other in dread or confusion.

“Remember,” Merlin sighed, biting his lip in a way that seemed almost painful before releasing and shivering slightly. “Remember the night we met, at that gala?”

“Of course,” Arthur said calmly, though now his mind was running through all of the possible terrible things that could have happened that night that Merlin didn’t know about. He came up blank, but that didn’t help his mind calm down.

“Well, remember the mysterious benefactor I was working for? The one who wanted to upset Cenred Slate’s political career?” Merlin asked and Arthur nodded slowly, beginning to realize this wasn’t anything about some imaginary transgression of his. “She was impressed with my work and my discretion, and is interested in hiring me again.”

“That’s…good,” Arthur said slowly, still not quite understanding what the problem could be. “Isn’t it?”

“It would be,” Merlin said, wincing as if waiting for impact, “if her next target wasn’t your father.”

“… _Oh_ ,” Arthur said, eyes widening, surprised by the lack of feeling he had at the news. The matching serious gazes of Merlin, Lance, and Gwaine felt out of place with his ambivalence. Even Leon looked put out, glancing at Arthur concernedly. But Arthur didn’t feel anything at all, nothing that merited these looks in any way.

“We wanted to leave it up to you,” Merlin told him, eyes bright and genuine and still a little nervous, “whether or not we’d take the job.”

“How much does it pay?” Arthur asked automatically, and the three of them exchanged looks.

“Enough to fuel the ship for four months,” Merlin admitted begrudgingly. Silence fell for a moment, but Arthur interrupted it a second later with a chuckle.

“Then of course you take the job,” he said, and everyone’s heads turned sharply in surprise. “Depending on what the job’s specific are, I can be of a huge assistance. No one in the ‘verse knows my father better than I do.”

“But Arthur,” Lance said slowly as if to an infant, “he’s your _father_. Surely you don’t want to be involved –”

“My father’s manipulated me all of my life,” Arthur snapped, surprising himself with the ferocity of his own words. His lightness clearly took Merlin aback, his eyes narrowing concernedly at Arthur. “He’s never shown me any love unless he has an ulterior motive for it. Trust me. I _want_ to help you.”

 “He may not be a very good man,” Merlin said, serious eyes not leaving Arthur’s. “But he’s your family, Arthur. Are you sure about this?”

 _He’s not my family,_ Arthur itched to say aloud, but knew that it was too much, too soon, too everything. _You are._

Instead, he just nodded, letting laughter come back into his eyes. “I’m sure.”

* * *

 

“Our benefactor knows perfectly well that Uther’s no young upstart; he won’t be thrown at a public event like Cenred was. He’s had years of practice cultivating his reputation, he’d never throw that away now,” Merlin explained to the table. Lance and Gwaine listened attentively; Arthur, however, already knew this all too well. “However, she thinks he has a lot of dirt hidden in his private files, and stealing those would be the best way to usurp him.”

“He does have a lot of dirt,” Arthur acknowledged, thinking of the videotapes of his chambers, of how many Guild laws that they breached. “Out of curiosity, do you know who your benefactor _is?_ Or is there just a middle man?”

“Perce acts as a middle man, but I’ve had direct contact with her,” Merlin said. “Her name’s Annis Carleon. She’s on the Senate, from one of the Border planets. Against Unification, but willing to work with the Alliance now for the greater good of the galaxy.”

 “I’ve met her,” Arthur recalled a middle-aged red-haired woman with a sharp tongue, one that he knew his father had called a terrible bitch on more than one occasion. “My father doesn’t like her.”

“And has a good reason to, I’d say,” Gwaine snorted. “Seein’ as how she wants to get ‘im outta her space.”

“Point is, Annis gave us information about where Uther’s office is and the security layout of the Senate building,” Merlin explained, but Arthur cut him off.

“He wouldn’t keep anything dirty in his office files; he’s too good for that. Anything incriminating will either be purely on paper or kept on his home files.”

“Well, good thing you know where his home is,” Lance said, an amused smile twitching at his lips. “And you know about his security system there?”

“Two guards at the front door of the manor, but no others on the premises trained in combat,” Arthur said, grabbing a piece of parchment from off the table and crudely sketching the entrance of his father’s home. “The foyer leads into a sitting room where he keeps guests when they come for dinner. Beyond that is the kitchen that has a set of stairs that lead down to the servants’ quarters. There’s a code to get there, however, and another code that leads to the main living part of the home. I believe the servants’ code is 0835, but I _know_ the primary code is 9761. The latter would be the more discreet option.”

“He likes security, your father,” Lance said, taking the crude drawing from Arthur to examine it with narrowed eyes. “Would the servants raise an alarm if they saw one of us in their quarters?”

“He’s constantly hiring and firing servants; they wouldn’t concern themselves with you,” Arthur explained. “Anyway, back to the house – the primary part of the manor opens to a dining room, and if you follow a brief hallway, you’ll reach his personal sitting room. That’s where his Cortex is stored. He’s probably changed the passcode since I broke into it last, but it was previously 5729. I’d be surprised if he hadn’t changed it by now after my, ah, surprising him one evening.”

“Well, we definitely have a leg up on any other crew who wanted to try this,” Merlin shot Arthur a grateful look as he too looked over the manor drawing. “Alright, so this clearly works best as a one-man job. Someone else will have to deal with the guards beforehand, but only one of us enters the house.”

“That’s code for _only Merlin_ ,” Gwaine stage-whispered to Arthur.

“It’s the safest option,” Merlin glared non-threateningly at Gwaine before continuing, “anyway –”

“Actually,” Arthur interrupted loudly, “the _safest_ option would be for _me_ to go in alone.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said quietly, eyes taking on a fearful quality that wasn’t often present. “I know he’s hurt you, but he’s still your father. I don’t want you to do anything that you’ll regret.”

“If my father catches any of you trying to hack his Cortex, he’d shoot you on the spot,” Arthur said truthfully, thinking of how his father’s pistol hung on the mantle ever since his birth. “I’m his son; no one has a better chance of getting through all of his security and making it out alive without any bullet holes. And I care a hell of a lot more about making sure that none of you get hurt than what happens if I further damage my relationship with my father.” Arthur swallowed painfully. “He is who he is. He’s not going to change just because I want him to.”

“It’s his decision,” Lance pointed out when Merlin’s face didn’t soften. His eyes were prying Arthur’s as if willing him to change his mind. Arthur stared right back; he wouldn’t back down from this. “That’s what you said before. Whatever the decision, it’s his. This is what he’s deciding.”

“I’ll get you a data converter from Gwen,” Merlin finally spoke, traces of bitterness in his voice but still accepting of the decision. Arthur felt relieved. “And you keep a portable Cortex on you so you can wave me if anything is amiss. We’ll be landing in Annis’s private shipyard which is where most of the crew will stay. But Lance and I will be close enough to you that you can call us if you need us.”

He met Arthur’s eyes again, his own serious and almost scared. Arthur didn’t like that; Merlin was what brave meant; he wasn’t meant to look like the world was crumbling. “You can change your mind at any time, Arthur.”

Arthur met his eyes and tried to convey that this wasn’t worth Merlin’s fear, that he could lose that look right now and never have to have an inkling of fear in his gaze ever again. “Not a chance.”

* * *

 

“Well, Mr. Emrys, I knew you were good,” Annis remarked, critical brown eyes sharp against Arthur’s, her lips twisting into a dancing smirk. “I just never imagined you’d recruit the old bastard’s son to your cause. I’m thinking about paying you extra just for that.”

“Job’s not done, ma’am,” Arthur said before Merlin could make any number of remarks. “Thank me when I have your data files for you.”

“I like this one,” Annis smiled readily, but she was a politician; she had no qualms about lacking genuineness. “Have we met before, boy?”

“Briefly, at a gala or two,” Arthur said and Annis clucked her tongue in remembrance.

“You were there the night of the Cenred Slate fiasco,” her eyes glimmered in amusement. “His Companion for the evening, if I recall correctly.” She turned to Merlin. “I would make a complaint of you not following through on complete discretion, but it seems that your slip of tongue has benefited both of us greatly.”

“It has,” Merlin said, flashing a grin to Arthur from around Annis’s intimidating stare. The three of them, along with the ever-quite Lance, stood outside Aithusa in a small, dark shipyard, the glimmering lights of Londinium present in the distance. Arthur’s heart beat faster at the thought of being home again, but he swallowed his nerves. “Well, we’d best be going. Hoping to see you soon.”

Arthur and Lance started in the direction of the lights, where Annis had promised a ride to the city for them from one of her personal drivers. Arthur glanced backward to see Annis had pulled Merlin by the ear and was muttering quietly to him. Arthur tried not to be offended.

“What was that?” Lance muttered when Merlin caught up to them a moment later.

“She told me that if Arthur betrays us, she’d also consider paying extra for shooting him in the face,” Merlin elbowed Arthur lightly with a laugh in his eyes; Arthur inexplicably felt relieved at his thinking the idea as ridiculous, though he knew perfectly well that Merlin would never do such a thing. “Just something to keep in mind.”

Lance snorted before Arthur could respond. “Arthur could lead us straight to the Senate authorities and you’d forgive him without a thought.”

“An added bonus of being on my crew,” Merlin touched Arthur’s wrist lightly. Arthur was already trying not to blush from Lance’s comment, and Merlin’s touch didn’t help his emotions stay under wraps. “I have unlimited forgiveness.”

They reached the transport vehicle; Arthur leaned down to tell the driver the address of a restaurant that Merlin and Lance could go to where they would avoid suspicious glances. It wasn’t far from his father’s home, however, and they could be there within ten minutes if Arthur contacted them. Merlin had wanted to be closer, but Arthur had dissuaded him, citing the fact that if they were too close his father’s security team would surely notice.

A few more light, teasing comments were made as they vehicle sped through the city, but the nerves in Arthur’s gut jumped as he saw all of the places that were once so familiar to him that now looked unspeakably foreign. Merlin’s hand on his knee kept him steady though, and he breathed deeply, regaining control of his emotions, knowing that his father would notice if he seemed anything but his normal, charming self.

“Be careful,” Merlin told him as the vehicle pulled up to the restaurant, and he pulled Arthur into a crushing hug; Arthur rested his chin on Merlin’s shoulder for a moment, closing his eyes. “If all goes well, we’ll see you at the ship at midnight.”

Lance reached across Merlin to shake Arthur’s hand. Then the two of them were gone and Arthur was alone for the five minute trip to his father’s. He worked on regulating his breathing, keeping everything normal and proper, trying to imagine that this was just like seeing a client on a bad day; he needed to act like nothing was amiss so as not to distract from his mission.

All too soon, Arthur was in front of his father’s darkened and intimidating manor house. His fingernails dug into his hand as he approached the house, but he had to relax them. His father raised him; he knew of Arthur’s nervous ticks.

“Hold it right there,” one of the guards walked forward to reach Arthur when he got close enough, but the woman’s eyes quickly changed. “Oh – Mr. Pendragon. I didn’t recognize you at first. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve visited.”

“I’ve been off-world,” Arthur tried to keep his voice as pleasant as possible. “Is my father home?”

“Yes, he returned home half an hour ago,” the guard explained as she buzzed open the front door to the manor. “I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to see you, sir.”

“I’m sure,” Arthur smiled, a bitter taste in his mouth as he entered the house he swore to himself a thousand times over that he’d never return to. It looked the same as it had since the day he was born; as vast, spacious, and utterly empty as always. Arthur made his way through the public areas and punched in the code for the private rooms. The door, thankfully, slid open; perhaps Uther hadn’t changed the code to his Cortex either. Gwen had educated Arthur about what he could do if the code was wrong, however, so at least there was a backup plan.

“ _Arthur_.”

Uther stood immediately inside the doorway, shock on his features. Arthur was surprised to see how much greyer his father was, the lankness of his hair, the more pronounced the wrinkles on his skin. He was even more surprised when Uther strode forward to embrace him.

“I’ve missed you,” his father told him as he held on tightly, and it was all Arthur could do not to keep tears from forming in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Arthur choked out. He didn’t mean the words, not entirely; he had never felt more alive than when he was free of his father. But hearing his father say that he missed him was a phrase Arthur had spent all of his childhood longing to hear; there was no possible way that he wouldn’t react to it.

Uther pulled back, a genuine smile actually present on his features as he regarded Arthur with roaming eyes. “Your hair is longer,” he told him. Arthur nodded. “Come inside. I’m so glad you’ve decided to stop this foolish tantrum and come home.”

Arthur’s anger crawled through his insides, threatening to burst, but he shoved it down into his gut, letting out a breath. “The Border…” Arthur wanted to finish with _is a place far greater than you could have ever offered me_ , but forced the words, “…wasn’t the place for me. My place is here. With you. I know that now.”

“You’ve come to your senses,” Uther said with a hint of pride in his voice as he led Arthur toward the dining hall and pulled out a chair for him. They sat opposite one another and took a moment of silence to regard the other; Uther looked younger again and happier than Arthur had seen him in the past five years combined.

“I reacted badly to…to what happened last year,” Arthur said, fighting to keep his voice even and not betray any weakness. “You’ve always done what’s best for me, Father. I shouldn’t have judged the situation so hastily.”

“You should have come back sooner,” Uther said, and the genuine happiness that Arthur felt at the warm welcome evaporated with the sharp words.

“I didn’t know how to face you,” Arthur tried not to let the words taste too bitter on his tongue, though the bile in his throat certainly said otherwise. “I was worried I had disappointed you.”

Uther studied him critically for a moment before saying “Well, you’re home now. That’s what matters. There is much to discuss – accommodations for you, contacting to your clientele, explaining your conspicuous absence…”

“Perhaps we could talk about all of this in the morning?” Arthur asked, feeling hopeful at the idea that perhaps he was nearly done speaking with his father for the final time. “I’ve just had a long flight from Persephone and would prefer to deal with all of these very important issues with a clear head.”

“Of course,” Uther rose and Arthur followed his lead, relieved. Uther clapped him on the back. “You can stay in your childhood room. I’ll have one of the servants summon you for breakfast in the morning, and we can speak before I go to the Senate hearing tomorrow afternoon. Welcome home, Arthur.”

Arthur knew with bone-deep certainty as he followed his father up the spiraling staircase to the bedrooms that this place would never be home again. Aithusa was home, with its engine steady, its crew laughing, and Merlin smiling.

Arthur said goodnight to his father but did not even approach the idea of sleep. He sat on his bed for an hour, waiting for ten o’clock to approach, knowing that his father would stay up no later than that. After he was certain his father was asleep, he could quietly return to the main floor of the house, equip the hard drive in his pocket with the files Annis wanted, and finally, leave the cold, empty manor and never return.

The time arrived; Arthur stepped quietly from his room, taking care to shut his door in case his father awoke to use the bathroom. He stepped lightly down the staircase, stopping only to light one of the lamps in the sitting room as he approached his father’s Cortex. He plugged Gwen’s hard drive into the side of the machine; it lit up before him, prompting him to ask for a passcode.

Nerves jumped in his insides as he punched in what he hoped was the code, but before he could even check to see if it worked, the darkened interior of the house suddenly flooded with light.

Arthur, heart beating wildly, turned to see Uther standing in his bathrobe at the bottom of the staircase, eye twitching, mouth set in fury –

And a shotgun resting in his right hand, pointed directly at Arthur.

Arthur stepped away from the Cortex, heart beating wildly in his chest. Uther had been cleverer than Arthur anticipated; his carefully crafted plan shattered. His father was too smart to let Arthur reach into his pocket to activate his portable Cortex. There was no contacting Merlin now.

“Father,” Arthur whispered, his voice strangled. “Don’t.”

“You think I’m some kind of damn fool?” Uther hissed, stepping forward, gun still trained at Arthur. “You’re the most prideful man in the universe. Companion training couldn’t even beat that out of you. Even if you truly did come to your senses, you’d never admit that you were wrong. You’d rather live in misery than admit to making a mistake. I should know better than anyone.”

Arthur’s stomach churned as he realized that he hadn’t given his father enough credit; Uther really did know him, at least well enough to predict his actions.

“Put down your gun, Father,” Arthur said, trying to keep calm without breaking into pathetic pleas for his life. That would disgust Uther. If he kept himself strong and measured, there was a chance of escape. “Let’s discuss this matter like adults, not like savages.”

“But I hear that your life is _full_ of savages nowadays,” Uther’s eyes flashed and the pit dropped from Arthur’s stomach. He knew about Aithusa. “You think that Morgana never let _any_ information slip about your whereabouts? Oh, she stayed loyal to you. But her temper got the better of her. She had to snap at me about how happy you were without me, about how you were _seeing the universe_ , about how you had a real family now…pathetic,” he sneered. “My son taking up with some ragtag group of sailors from the Border worlds. Absolutely pathetic.”

His words, though meant to rattle Arthur, actually managed to calm him down considerably. Uther didn’t actually know the name of the ship or who the crew was, just that they existed. That, he could deal with. As long as Merlin and his crew couldn’t be implicated in this, Arthur could live with whatever Uther did to him.

“She’s right,” Arthur said softly after a moment. “They’re a better family to me than you ever were.”

Uther’s expression remained enraged, but he still froze at Arthur’s words.

“They…they _care_ about me,” Arthur had imagined telling Uther what it was like living without him, but had never believed that he could actually say the words. “You only care about how you can use me.”

“I am your father,” Uther said firmly, gripping the gun even more tightly. Arthur could see the sweat on his hands, though; if he could get his father to feel enough remorse, maybe he’d let the gun go long enough for Arthur to overpower him. “I _love_ you.”

“No,” Arthur said, telling the truth to his father for the first time he could remember. “You don’t.”

Uther’s eyes changed. Arthur thought that maybe, just maybe, he had gotten through to him – but then his finger moved a minuscule amount and fear and anger poured through Arthur’s veins.

_Bang._

Arthur didn’t even have time to react as pain erupted in his side. He choked on the air around him as his knees buckled. His hand touched the sticky red substance that now covered his stomach. How – how did that happen – there had just been –

He fell backward, the world spinning above him –

But then he felt strong arms around him, catching him before he hit the ground. His father’s face swam above his, and Arthur recognized regret in his features.

“What have I done? What have I done?” Arthur heard repeated above him, but his vision was blurring and noise simply became a dull rush in his eardrums. The last thing he heard was the word “Guards!”

And then everything went black.

* * *

 

The blackness persisted; Arthur was vaguely aware of voices around him, of pressure against his side, of frantic shouts, of a slow beeping next to his head, but his brain wasn’t coherent enough to string together what all of that could possibly mean.

Slowly, memories filtered back into his mind, foggy and hazy in nature; he was working a job for Merlin. A job on Londinium. He had gone to his father’s. His father had hugged him. His father had told him he loved him.

His father had shot him.

Arthur fought his way to consciousness with that crystal clear thought in his mind’s eye, becoming more and more aware of the world around him. He was lying in a bed, the sheets scratchy underneath him. He wasn’t in pain – drugs. He must be on drugs.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Arthur tried to articulate, but his mouth just made a groaning sound. There was a scuffle from next to him, however, and Arthur realized he wasn’t alone.

Then he became aware that someone was holding his hand.

Despite how much simpler the world would be if he kept his eyes shut, Arthur forced them open into the dim light of a hospital room – the hospital on Londinium where he had been taken as a boy when he knee was injured. The beeping next to his head was a heart monitor. A trace of light came in through a half-open doorway.

And Merlin was sitting in a chair next to his bed, his hand gripping Arthur’s tightly enough to break it, face white and shaking – and yet he smiled when Arthur opened his eyes, his expression full of wonderment.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, relief evident, and he pressed their entwined hands to his forehead as he took in a deep, shuddering breath. “ _Arthur_. I thought I lost you.”

“Merlin,” Arthur’s tongue was heavy in his throat, his voice like sandpaper. “Merlin, my father. My father…”

“I know,” Merlin held his hand even more tightly in his own, face set in anger but trying to contain it. “I know what he did.”

“How?” Arthur’s throat felt like lead. “How – how did you even know where to find me?”

“You never made contact to say you finished the job,” Merlin told him quietly. “Lance went back to the ship and radioed me to say you weren’t there either. I went to your father’s house as fast as I could. One of your father’s guards tried to threaten me, but when she heard I was looking for you, she seemed worried. I put some pressure on her and she admitted that a medical vehicle was brought to the house and you were loaded onto it. She said that she had pressed Uther for information, but he just snapped that there was an intruder, never mind the fact that she was the guard and would have known. She was concerned for you and told me where he took you, so I broke into the hospital. I _knew_ this was job a bad idea. I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Arthur found a way to give Merlin a tetchy look, even though all he wanted to do was hug Merlin tightly to him, thanking him over and over again for being here, for taking the time to look for him, for _caring_. “It was _my_ idea.”

“Shouldn’t have taken the job in the first place,” Merlin shook his head regretfully. “Should have walked away the moment Perce offered it to me.”

“I didn’t get the data files,” Arthur remembered with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “I’m –”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Merlin said, but his words were contradicted with a fond look. “You’re going to be alright. That’s what matters.”

Arthur felt bile in his mouth as he shook his head, willing tears not to spring to his eyes. He knew he needed to get Merlin away from here before his father did anything to him. “My father may have felt badly about shooting me, but he’s certainly going to turn me into the authorities if he hasn’t already. You need to get Aithusa off-world as soon as you can before you’re implicated –”

“Fuck that,” Merlin exclaimed with a hurt look in his eye. “Arthur, wherever I go, you’re coming with me.”

“But my father –”

“Fuck your father,” Merlin’s features were nearly shaking with anger as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against Arthur’s. His breath tickled Arthur’s cheek. “I don’t care if we’re on the run from the Alliance for the rest of our gorram lives. I’m already a criminal; I’m prepared for it. I’m getting you out of here, we’re getting back to Aithusa, and we’re going to leave this gorram planet and your gorram father behind.”

Merlin had barely finished his words when the door creaked open and Uther Pendragon, suit pristine and eyes sharp, marched into the room. Arthur’s heart fell from his chest; he had wanted time to say goodbye. He stopped a few feet from Arthur’s bed, looking down at him in derision as Arthur fought the urge to throw up what little was left in his stomach.

“So you’re the man who has corrupted my son,” Uther spoke menacingly and Arthur held Merlin’s hand even more tightly, trying to convey the feelings that he had never gotten to articulate. “I suggest walking away now before I do something that I’ll regret.”

Merlin breathed against Arthur one last time, eyes closed and fully relaxed for one last second before he pulled away almost violently, snapping his gaze up at Uther – and then the pistol that he kept strapped to his boot for jobs was pointed directly at Uther’s face. Arthur wasn’t the least bit surprised. Merlin remained in his chair, gun aimed steadily at Uther.

Uther, to his credit, remained entirely still, eyes traveling between Merlin and Arthur with measured coolness.

“Whoever you are,” Uther told Merlin in a clipped tone, “you can still walk away from this. If you shoot me now, you’ll have the entire hospital staff to contend with.”

“But you won’t be able to hurt Arthur anymore,” Merlin pointed out, his tone mild and very nearly pleasant. “So I’m still considering it.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said quietly, sending him a warning look, but Merlin didn’t meet his eyes, just stared at Uther impassively.

“I’m his father,” Uther said, upper lip curling. “I think I know what’s best for my son better than you do.”

“And _I_ think you’re a corrupt, miserly, vindictive little man who has spent a lifetime victimizing his children,” Merlin volleyed back, anger flashing in his eyes. Arthur was nearly taken aback by the temper Merlin was showing. He thought that he was the one who needed to be reined in. “Believe me; it would give me a lot of pleasure to show you the barrel of this gun. The only reason I haven’t shot you yet is because you’re not worth the bullet.”

“Father,” Arthur said slowly, his mouth catching up to the rest of his body, “let him go and you can do whatever you wish with me.”

“Uther,” Merlin shot Arthur a furious look, “I would rather die than let you come near him, so rest assured that this deal is immediately off the table.”

“I am not a forgiving man,” Uther told Merlin with a curling lip. He didn’t have to remind Arthur of his unforgiving nature; Arthur already knew perfectly well what his father did to his enemies. “And I believe that neither of you have the power to be making deals right now. I _own_ this world. There is nowhere in the universe that I couldn’t find you.”

“But I could kill you right now and none of that would matter,” Merlin replied with a smirk of his own, lifting the gun even higher to point it between Uther’s eyes. Arthur looked between them. Suddenly, the bullet hole in his side, the numbness in his legs, and the eruptions of pain that were sure to come didn’t matter to him anymore.

“Merlin,” Arthur ran one of his thumbs across Merlin’s free hand, still tangled with his own. “Don’t.”

Merlin turned to look at Arthur, fear and regret clear in his eyes, but the gun stayed up. Uther chuckled as he looked down upon them.

“You always were a sensible boy, Arthur,” Uther said, condescension ringing in his voice. “I’ll throw this miscreant in prison, and once you’re healed, you’ll come home and –”

“Shut up,” Arthur snarled, heat rising in his voice as Uther jumped back, startled. “I didn’t say anything to you. I don’t _want_ Merlin to shoot you, but if it’s the best option, I won’t waste any time shedding tears over you.”

“You don’t mean –”

“Here is my _new_ deal,” Arthur said, forcing himself to sit up straighter in his bed, hating the feeling of powerlessness in his weakened body. “You let _both_ of us go free. You forget that I tried to sabotage you, just like I forgot that you videotaped me with my clients, breaking a dozen Guild laws in the process. I’ll even forget that you put this bullet in my side. And when we leave, we don’t return. A clean break. You never hear a word from me again, and in return, I never hear a word from you.”

Uther stared down at him, anger and derision still in his gaze. “And what exactly do I gain from this deal?”

“For one thing, I don’t put this bullet in your skull,” Merlin remarked almost lazily. “For another, I don’t let every other politician on Londinium know exactly what you keep in your Cortex.”

 _That_ caught Uther’s attention. His gaze snapped from Arthur to Merlin with frightening ferocity. Arthur’s stomach churned with anxiety; those files absolutely had never reached Merlin. Which meant he was bluffing. Which meant that if Uther called him out on it…

“You let us go free, I destroy the files,” Merlin stared Uther down, a hint of viciousness in his eyes that Arthur had never seen before. “If not, I have friends who will send them out tonight if we don’t return. If _both_ of us don’t return. Preferably in one piece. So they’re already going to be a bit cross about that bullet hole you put in your son.”

“You’re lying,” Uther shook his head with a smirk; Arthur swallowed painfully, bracing for terrible impact. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know that you and Agravaine Du Bois manipulated Annis Carleon into hiring a lowlife petty thief to delegitimize Cenred Slate’s political career,” Merlin smirked right back as Arthur stared at him in surprise. But shockingly enough, the look on his father’s face confirmed it as the truth, what little color he had left draining away. “And that’s just the _beginning_ , Uther. If you let us part ways now, that information will never get out through me.”

 “How will I know that the files are destroyed?” Uther said slowly, and Arthur almost felt victory at such a clear admittance of weakness from his father. Arthur had gotten his pride from somewhere, after all; this question was a sign of Uther admitting defeat.

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me,” Merlin raised an eyebrow almost haughtily. “Besides, it’ll make nice collateral for if you change your mind and decide to come for us later.”

Uther stared at him for a moment before his gaze flickered to Arthur. “I thought you were better than this,” Uther said softly. There was a time when such words would have swayed all of Arthur’s thoughts and feelings, but today, he felt nothing at all, only the stinging pain in his stomach where Uther’s bullet made impact.

“And I thought that _you_ were better than _this_ ,” Arthur jabbed a finger in the direction of his bandaged stomach. “I guess we’ve both disappointed one another.”

“You have twelve hours to leave the planet before I contact the authorities,” Uther said quietly after a moment’s silence, anger seeping through his voice. Still, Arthur’s chest lifted and he was finally able to breathe again. “If I ever see either of your faces again, I’ll shoot on sight.”

Uther turned and walked stiffly form the room. Merlin kept his gun trained on his retreating figure long after his shadow disappeared from view. He quickly hid it away when a nurse entered the room to check Arthur’s bandages, however. He kept a hold of Arthur’s hand the entire time.

“How did you –” Arthur began to ask the moment the nurse left, but Merlin didn’t give him time to answer, instead burying his face in Arthur’s neck and breathing deeply, his hair tickling Arthur’s chin. Arthur gripped him back, fingernails digging into Merlin’s shoulder blades as he held on.

“Later,” Merlin murmured, lips just barely brushing Arthur’s skin. He tried not to shiver at the slightest impact. “Back on the ship. Right now, I’m getting you a wheelchair and calling Lance for a ride. I want to get you home first.”

 _Home,_ Arthur thought, and even as the pain trickled into his side, he smiled into Merlin’s shoulder. He was going home.

* * *

 

The hospital swam around the edges of Arthur’s vision as his side erupted into flames. Merlin assured him on their way down the elevator that Gaius would have something for him when they got to the ship. Arthur was vaguely aware of Lance hugging him when they met just outside the doors, but the noises around him became a dull roar and he closed his eyes, willing the pain to stop.

When he opened them again, he was in the still dark and eerily empty shipyard; he could see Merlin’s silhouette out in front of him. He stood next to Lance and the two of them faced a red-haired woman – Annis.

“We don’t have –”

“Extenuating circumstances, we won’t put him at risk –”

“Made a deal –”

“Brave, isn’t he?”

Then Merlin was next to him again, holding his hand, and Arthur saw Aithusa, its golden-brown sheen beautiful even in Arthur’s addled and disjointed state.

Arthur was aware of Gwen and Gaius joining them as the wheelchair rolled up the deck of the ship, but then even more pain shot through his body as Merlin and Lance lifted him up, swinging one of his arms around each of their shoulders.

He remembered seeing the cool white metal of the medical bay, of feeling of the ship lift off of the ground and depart the surface of the planet; then Gaius had a needle and Arthur’s thoughts came into focus again.

“Arthur?” Gaius peered down at him concernedly. “Are you with us? This won’t put you to sleep or keep your body numb like I’m sure the hospital drugs did, but it’ll keep the pain at a minimum.”

“Good stuff,” Arthur croaked out, coughing slightly. The crew was crowded around his bedside, Gaius on one of his sides, Merlin on the other. Lance, Gwaine, and Gwen were all in front of him; Gwen’s eyes were filled with tears, Lance looked like the picture of exhaustion, and even Gwaine had a fearful look about him. Leon was absent; he was flying the ship away from Londinium and away from Uther forever. “I can think clearly again, at least.”

“What happened, Arthur?” Gwen asked, voice shaking. “We were all so worried.”

“My father –” Arthur’s voice cracked and he couldn’t continue.

Naturally, Merlin finished for him. “His father is the worst human being in the ‘verse, but we managed to make a deal with him; we don’t come back planetside. Ever. And he won’t come after us.”

“How’d you get the codger to agree?” Gaius asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Merlin shrugged. “Made him think we got his information when we didn’t.”

“So we didn’t finish the job,” Gwaine nodded in understanding and a horrible feeling seeped through Arthur’s gut that he let everyone down. “Annis alright with that?”

“She let us go, didn’t she?” Lance pointed out, and Arthur felt Merlin’s hand on his shoulder.

“She knows that Uther’s a tricky target to get to, and if he…if he did this to his own son, there’s no telling what he’s capable of. She’s fighting on, but I told her to leave us out of it. She agreed.”

“How’d you know?” Arthur suddenly remembered the look of fear in his father’s eyes at the information Merlin had divulged. “That my father had set her up to take out Cenred?”

Merlin exchanged a look with Lance. “We talked to her on the com unit before we arrived. She kept making comments about his manipulation, about things she never would have done if not for him – hiring us included. It was a dangerous bluff, but we needed some kind of leverage. If it hadn’t have worked, I would’ve found some way to get us out of there after I shot him.”

“Merlin,” Lance’s eyes flashed. “You can’t just –”

“The bluff paid off,” Arthur interrupted, suddenly tired. He wasn’t angry at Merlin; he could never be angry after what happened tonight, and the crew shouldn’t be either. They had lived; Merlin’s cleverness had paid off. Maybe he’d think differently when his side wasn’t bleeding, but for now, he didn’t want to think about it. “That’s what counts.”

“We’ll not talk about this tonight,” Gaius said sharply, glaring in Lance’s direction. Lance looked taken aback at Gaius’s temper. “Arthur is injured and needs rest. You all can start bickering again this time tomorrow, but for now, you all need to leave him well enough alone. Arthur,” he said, and his face was possibly the softest Arthur had ever seen it, “will you be able to sleep in the medical bay? It’s not comfortable, but it may be preferable to leading you up the two flights of stairs to your shuttle.”

The hard metal of the med bay bed wasn’t exactly preferable for sleeping material, but the thought of stairs again had Arthur’s stomach churning. “I’ll –”

“My room is down the hall,” Merlin interrupted, hand still warm against Arthur’s shoulder. “We can get him there in the wheelchair, and then I can stay and make sure that he doesn’t have an adverse reaction to the drugs, and change his bandages in a few hours. I was nearly a doctor, Gaius,” he pointed out when Gaius raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I know what I’m doing.”

Arthur nodded at Gaius when the old man looked down at him concernedly, and Gaius sighed, but the look in his eye was not an angry one. “Alright. Go. But call me if you need help.”

Merlin and Gaius helped Arthur into the wheelchair before leading him down the hall to Merlin’s room. Arthur had never visited it before; he always thought Merlin liked his privacy too much to invite anyone inside. It was small but messy, clothes and belongings strewn across the left side of the room, while a single bed occupied the right. Merlin helped Arthur up into it and covered him in a large green quilt. A pleasant warmness seeped through the blanket to Arthur’s skin, the mattress soft beneath him and the pillow smelling like Merlin. Arthur knew it wouldn’t be long before he was asleep.

“Welcome home,” Gwen kissed Arthur’s forehead before she departed, and Gwaine and Lance each patted him on the back. Gaius gave Arthur a final look, and then exchanged a couple of whispered words with Merlin. A moment later, the two of them were alone.

Merlin stepped forward to the bed, eyes downcast; he ran a calloused hand through Arthur’s hair. Arthur shuddered at the touch. “Sleep,” Merlin told him quietly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Arthur took it as an invitation and closed his eyes.

It didn’t feel like any time at all had passed when he opened them again, but Merlin wasn’t standing in front of him anymore. The pain in his side was still present, but not nearly as sharp. Arthur turned onto his back and lifted his head slightly to see Merlin sitting at the bottom edge of the bed, next to Arthur’s feet, knees curled up to his chest. His eyes appeared to be closed, but when Arthur breathed more heavily, they opened immediately.

“Hey,” Merlin whispered, letting his knees fall to the bed. “Are you alright? You’ve only been asleep for an hour.”

“Just woke up,” Arthur shook his head, not knowing why he couldn’t sleep. He had clearly been tired enough. He tried to sit, groaning slightly as he did, and Merlin quickly took his hand and guided him upwards so that the two of them sat next to one another, backs against the wall.

“Do you need water? Something to eat?” Merlin listed off a few other options, but Arthur shook his head again.

“I don’t need anything,” Arthur reassured him. “I just can’t sleep, that’s all.”

“Well, if you’re looking for a lullaby, Leon has the best singing voice,” Merlin said jokingly and Arthur laughed. He winced when the pain in his side jolted and Merlin quickly had a hand out, wavering next to his wound.

“You’re not due to have your bandages changed yet, but I could do it early.”

“No,” Arthur told him gently. They were quiet for a moment before Merlin reached for Arthur’s hand again, intertwining their fingers.

“I was so afraid,” Merlin said quietly. “Today was one of the worst days of my life, Arthur. All I could think about was seeing…seeing my friend Will die on Serenity. Seeing the bullet enter his heart, seeing him fall backwards, his eyes going blank…Earlier, I thought that I was too late, that you would already be gone by the time I got there.” He lifted their jointed hands up to his head press his warm lips against Arthur’s fingers.

“I’m alright,” Arthur told him, staring down at their hands, wondering what that kiss could possibly mean, but holding on tighter all the same. “He didn’t want to kill me. He regretted shooting me right away, I know he did. He wouldn’t have hospitalized be otherwise.”

“That doesn’t make it acceptable,” Merlin said forcefully, traces of bitterness in his voice. “I’ve always hated the fact that I never had a father, but now all I can think of is that if all fathers are like him, I’m better off without one. I have a mother who loves me; that’s enough.”

“My father does care about me, in his own twisted way,” Arthur recognized, thinking of the relief in Uther’s face when he had first seen Arthur. That wasn’t faked. It didn’t excuse a lifetime of manipulation and bullying and pain, but it was real. “I’m just glad…glad that I never have to go back there. To him. Thank you, Merlin.” He looked over at Merlin, whose eyes were bright and genuine even in the semi- darkness of the room. “You’re…I’ve thought for a long time that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And now I know for certain.”

Something in Merlin’s expression broke. Maybe it was his resolve, because he pressed is forehead against Arthur’s again, like he had in the hospital, breath shaky. “You,” Merlin whispered, “are everything to me. Everything.”

And then Merlin’s lips were on Arthur’s, soft and gentle, just like Arthur had imagined they would be. Arthur lifted a hand up to cup Merlin’s cheek. The kiss was chaste and slow, nothing when a client kissed him. Arthur felt a tear on his cheek that wasn’t his own.

“Your rule,” Arthur said quietly as Merlin broke away from him. “You won’t – unless it’s someone who you love.”

“I meant what I said,” Merlin said shakily, and then kissed him again.

Now Arthur was relatively certain that the next tear was his; he lifted up his other hand and brushed the hair from Merlin’s eyes, running his thumbs down the smoothness of his skin and the roughness of his stubble. Merlin’s hands were on Arthur’s knees, gripping just tightly enough that Arthur knew they were there.

Arthur gasped when Merlin changed the angle of the kiss, pain running up from his side. He intended to ignore it, but Merlin immediately let go, fear in his eyes as he moved his lips away and smoothed down Arthur’s bandages.

“Here,” Merlin whispered, pushing Arthur’s chest. “Lay down.”

Arthur followed his lead, lying flat on his back as Merlin crawled up to him, kneeling next to his head. He leaned down to kiss him. Arthur thought vaguely that that might be uncomfortable for him, but soon forgot his worries because Merlin tasted like spearmint and fresh air.

“Do you want –” Arthur asked the next time Merlin came up for air, and Merlin shook his head.

“You stay right there,” Merlin whispered as he unfolded his knees, making to lie down next to Arthur. “Don’t worry about anything. Just let me.”

One of Merlin’s hands tangled Arthur’s hair as he kissed him, the other traveling downward past his stomach and his wound, coming to rest on the zipper of Arthur’s pants.

“Can I?” Merlin stopped kissing him to mouth onto his skin. Arthur’s heart stuttered slightly; Merlin had remembered that Arthur’s one request was that he wanted someone to ask to touch him. He nodded shakily, pressing his lips to the corner of Merlin’s mouth in response.

Merlin clearly wasn’t a Companion; he had to stop kissing Arthur to manage to undo the buttons, but he got there in the end.

Merlin took Arthur in his hand and stroked almost lazily, a shudder running up and down Arthur’s body as he breathed in time with Merlin’s movements and Merlin began to kiss him again in earnest. Arthur wondered when the last time someone had done this for him was – the hand job was rare enough. When people hired a Companion, they not only expected the Companion to be the one pleasuring them, but since they were paying such a high cost, they always wanted _more_.

The kissing, though, that was what pulled at Arthur’s heartstrings the most. No one had ever kissed him like this before, like they wanted him to feel good, like they wanted him to be pleasured, like they wanted to protect him, like they –

_Loved him._

Arthur tried to sit up, tried to reach for the zipper of Merlin’s pants so he could at least give something to Merlin in return, but Merlin batted his hand away.

“Let,” he said quietly, biting at Arthur’s lower lip, “ _me_.”

Arthur had always been taught that he should never come first, but it wasn’t like Merlin was giving him much of a choice in the matter. He came into Merlin’s hand quickly, and Merlin kissed him hard as he wiped his messy hand on the sheet.

“Was that so difficult?” Merlin asked playfully, kissing Arthur lightly. Arthur shook his head, trying not to smile too widely.

“ _Now_ can I –”

“You’re injured,” Merlin reminded him, settling back on his elbows to look at Arthur through dark lashes, eyes nearly adoring. Arthur felt himself blushing. “And you need to sleep.”

“But –”

“I’ll watch over you,” Merlin reminded him gently before kissing him again, and Arthur moved to let Merlin put an arm around his chest. Merlin shifted upward to press a kiss on top of Arthur’s head.

“Perfect,” he whispered into Arthur’s hair, burying his face into it. A thrum went through Arthur’s chest as he turned to press his nose into Merlin’s neck, breathing in his scent and memorizing the rhythm of his breaths.

 _Perfect_.

* * *

 

When Arthur opened his eyes again, he didn’t feel the pressure of Merlin against him. A panicked jolt when through his body as he forced his eyes open, but his worry was unfounded; Merlin was still there, arm propping his head up on the other side of the bed as he looked down at Arthur. Noticing he was awake, Merlin bent over to press his lips to Arthur’s. He relaxed entirely into the touch.

“Hurts,” Arthur realized when Merlin pulled away. The drugs in his system were clearly wearing off; the spasms of pain shooting through his body the proof. Merlin’s eyes changed and he sat up, moving gently around Arthur and off of the bed.

“Move over,” Merlin instructed gently as he rummaged for the clean white bandages Gaius had given him. “I’ll change the bandages.”

Wincing, Arthur forced himself to give Merlin enough room to sit on the side of the bed. As Merlin sat, he smoothed Arthur’s hair back before starting to gently dissemble the bandages covering Arthur’s stomach. Arthur could feel the wetness of the blood on them, and purposefully stared at the ceiling, hissing in pain as Merlin slid the dirtied bandages off of his body.

“Shh,” Merlin whispered, sliding the new set underneath Arthur’s stomach, pulling them around his abdomen and sealing them tightly.

“Guess I’ll have another scar,” Arthur spoke to distract himself from the pain. “Though I imagine scars from knives and scars from guns look rather different.”

“It’ll look something like this,” Merlin told him as he let go of the bandages to pull up the end of his shirt. Even in the semi-darkness of the room, Arthur could see a circular red mark on Merlin’s side in the exact place that Arthur’s was. Arthur hesitantly reached a hand forward; Merlin nodded and Arthur ran a hand across it. Merlin didn’t wince, and the skin didn’t feel too different from the rest of Merlin’s body, just more tender.

“What happened?”

“Job gone wrong a few years back,” Merlin said, a small smile on his face as if the memory were a pleasant one. “Nasty piece of work called Morgause double-crossed me. Let’s not talk about that, though; like Gaius said, I shouldn’t talk about anything upsetting. Here,” he said, leaning back as he brought his legs up onto the bed to tangle just slightly with Arthur’s, his head moving to nestle between Arthur’s head and his shoulder. “That’s better.”

“How long was I asleep?” Arthur asked, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, reveling in the fact that it was okay, that Merlin liked it, that he smiled and blushed when Arthur kissed him. Arthur had never kissed anyone for the sake of kissing them before.

“Three hours this time,” Merlin told him.

“Were you awake the whole time?”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, resting a hand on Arthur’s chest. “Had to keep an eye on you. Besides, I’m afraid that once I go to sleep….” He stopped, moving his hand to cup Arthur’s chin. “I’m afraid that I’ll forget that you’re here and have nightmares about you lying in that hospital bed,” he admitted softly.

“I’m here, though,” Arthur said, his voice thick with emotion. He wished that his abdomen wasn’t in so much pain so that he could pull Merlin even closer to him and never let go. “Thanks to you.”

“You were the one who made the deal with your father,” Merlin reminded him. “That took guts.”

“You were the one who made sure that I could pull that deal off,” Arthur argued back gently.

Merlin sighed fondly and kissed the corner of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur felt his chest tighten in something that he knew was joy but had never fully experienced before this moment. “Alright, so both of us did it. You’re here now and you’re staying and I’m thinking about never letting you leave this bed so that no one can ever hurt you again.”

A nagging question appeared in Arthur’s mind, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He knew perfectly well that he never wanted to sleep with anyone else ever again, but echoes of his Companion training came back to him, reminding him of what a horror and a travesty it was to quit Companionship just for the sake of monogamy. “Merlin…I…will you…expect me to stop being a Companion?”

Merlin’s eyes grew wider and more panicked and he lifted a hand to press against Arthur’s cheek. “I didn’t actually mean that I’d keep you in this bed forever. I just don’t want to see you hurt. And I…it’s your life. It’s your choice. Always.”

He kissed Arthur again before hurriedly adding, “I’m not your client or your father or someone who thinks you owe them something. I don’t expect anything from you. If you told me that you thought tonight was a mistake, I’d accept that. I’d hate it, but I’d accept it. Just like I’d be terribly jealous and hold you extra tightly after you took clients….but I’d accept it.”

Arthur ignored the pain in his abdomen to surge forward and kiss Merlin deeply, wondering how the ‘verse possibly created a man like this, someone who was so clearly flawed and yet so utterly perfect in every way. He didn’t understand fully, Arthur knew that; but he was trying. He was willing to try if it made Arthur happy.

“Thank you,” Arthur relaxed from the kiss, shuddering slightly at the bout of pain it had cost him. “I…I don’t know what I’ll do. But thank you for – for saying that.”

“Of course,” Merlin’s eyes softened as he propped himself up on his elbow again, looking down at Arthur like Arthur was the one who was so perfect, so utterly wonderful in every way when it was clearly the other way around.

“I don’t…” Arthur’s brow furrowed, a thought occurring to him. “I don’t even know if I _could_ keep being a Companion. I don’t know how far my father will carry this deal of ours. If he sees my name being down in the Guild registry as existing in his life….he might come after me just for that.”

The idea struck Arthur with cold finality as he realized the extremities of what he’d given up. Regret wasn’t given any time to take a hold of him, however; he remembered why he did it as he stared at the ceiling of Merlin’s room, the walls of Aithusa humming around him, Merlin’s hand pressed against his chest.

“You –” Merlin started before cutting himself off, a pink tint on his face. “Never mind, you probably –”

“What?” Arthur asked, curious, wishing he could sit up more easily. “What is it?”

“I was just going to say,” Merlin said, his eyes fixed on Arthur’s chest instead of his face. “You could…be a real part of the crew. Not that you already aren’t, of course,” he added hurriedly as Arthur’s heart beat faster, a feeling he didn’t realize he could have filling his entire body.

“But you could really be – one of us,” Merlin explained, voice wavering with nerves. “Work all of our jobs, come with us on runs, meet our contacts. I mean, it’s probably deeper into the criminal world than you’d ever like to go, but – I mean, you already help us so much. You’d be good at it. And the crew loves you just as much – as much as I do,” Merlin finished , curling his fingers tightly around Arthur’s hand.

Arthur’s heart beat faster, knowing already that it wasn’t even a choice, that he loved Aithusa just as much as he loved Merlin. He loved helping on jobs. He loved the thrill of being a part of something bigger than himself. He loved –

Arthur turned just enough so that he could bury his face in Merlin’s neck, hoping that Merlin couldn’t see the tears pricking his eyes.

“That would be – perfect,” Arthur whispered honestly into Merlin’s collarbone as Merlin’s arms came up around his chest to hold him in place. “I don’t...it’s impossible to know how much I lost today. Maybe my career. Maybe my sister. Maybe my own name. But being on your crew – you’re…you’re all like family to me. I couldn’t bear this without you.”

“I can speak for everyone on this boat,” Merlin said, pulling away from Arthur so that they could look in each other’s eyes, Merlin’s serious and genuine, making sure Arthur understood, “when I say that you’re like family to us, too. And you’ll _always_ have a place on this crew. I can’t help with your sister, but as for your name…anyone here would let you use their family name without a thought. Maybe…maybe wait a little while longer if you want to use mine, though.”

A self-deprecating grin appeared on Merlin’s face, accompanied by a slight blush. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh, heart thumping irregularly but not unpleasantly at the idea.

“You do realize what this means, though,” Merlin said thoughtfully after a moment. “If you stop taking clients, it means that you’re not getting paid extensively anymore. And you’ll be working for me. Which means that _I_ get to pay you. Ha! I win.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Arthur shook his head at Merlin’s smug grin, but he was smiling as well. “Well, I suppose I can bear losing if it means that I get to be a part of your crew.”

“No matter what happens,” Merlin kissed Arthur’s temple, “you’ll always belong here, Arthur. With us. With me.”

Arthur believed him.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry. _What_?”

Arthur winced as Morgana’s ferocious green eyes widened, her mouth set in a hard line of dissatisfaction. Aithusa had arrived at Persephone that morning and Arthur knew what he had to do, even if he hated it, even if it upset Morgana beyond belief.

“I can’t keep visiting you,” Arthur repeated gently. “Father might be angry enough that he’ll use any excuse to come after me. If he knows that we’re still in contact, he might put a high sum of money on my head. He might come and hurt the crew of Aithusa. Maybe he’ll hurt _you_ if it looks like you’ve chosen my side. I can’t risk any of that.”

Morgana’s features remained angry, but Arthur knew that she understood, at least a little bit. She had distanced herself from Uther as much as she could without entirely cutting him out of her life. She still showed him respect, hadn’t blatantly disregarded his commands, but she was hardly the perfect daughter.

“So – what?” Morgana asked, voice as sharp as ever, betraying none of that logic Arthur knew had already run through her mind. “You’re just going to live on that ship for the rest of your life? I know you like it, Arthur, and you like that crew, too, but you’re going to get sick of it eventually. And people always disappoint in the end. What happens when this crew betrays you like Father did?”

 _They won’t_ , was Arthur’s immediate and sharp response, but he gave the question a moment to settle in. What would happen if Aithusa stopped being the haven Arthur had come to know it as? What if the crew stopped being the people that Arthur cared so much about? What if they began to hate him or resent him?

He thought of the morning after he and Merlin first slept together. Gaius had come into Merlin’s room, given the two figures in Merlin’s bed a long look and sighed deeply. But when he met Arthur’s eyes, he smiled genially at him.

He thought of Gwen rushing to him as Merlin helped him out into the main area of the ship and resisting the urge to throw her arms around him. Tearfully, she had told him that he was one of her very best friends and she didn’t know what she’d do without him.

He thought of Leon, just behind her. Strangely enough, he had been the one who couldn’t help but throw his arms around Arthur, though he did feel guilty when Arthur hissed in pain. He told him that if he ever saw his father’s ship coming for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to blast it out of the sky, never mind that Aithusa wasn’t equipped with anything remotely resembling weaponry.

He thought of Lance helping him up the staircase, quiet and gentle as ever. He gave Arthur a small smile as he deposited him in the dining room chair, softly saying he was glad to see him in one piece.

He thought of Gwaine, who, of course, had been loud and raucous when he entered the room, but his smile was as genuine as the rest of theirs as he clapped Arthur on the back and told him that every criminal needed a gunshot wound; it was just his turn.

He thought of Merlin holding his hand all the while.

“They’re my family,” Arthur said softly, turning toward Morgana, who looked taken aback. “You know that. You told Father that. I’m not saying that my life will be perfect. But I’m saying that they’re good people who care about me and I won’t ever leave them.”

“But I’m your family, too,” Morgana told him, eyes distressed, voice almost breaking. Arthur jumped up from her couch, side stinging as he did so, to put his arm around her, not expecting the show of emotion from his cold and distant sister. She shook slightly as he hugged her.

“Of course you are,” Arthur pressed his cheek against her hair. “That won’t ever change.”

Morgana stopped sniffling a moment later; she could never show weakness for long. She was like Arthur in that way. She looked up at him with only slightly watery eyes. “Well,” she said, voice trying to be businesslike again. “I guess if the clients pay just as well on the Rim…”

Arthur’s fingernails dug into his skin as he winced; this was what he had been most nervous about. “Morgana, I’m…ah, retiring. From Companionship.”

Morgana stared at him, unblinking, uncomprehending. Then she laughed. “You’re kidding.”

Arthur stared at the floor and the silence in the room grew more palpable.

“You’re _not_ kidding,” Morgana stood up, movements fast and nearly violent in their manner. She glared down at Arthur, eyes flashing. “Is this about Father? The Guild will protect you from him. Even if they can’t, I’ll talk to Father –”

“No,” Arthur cut her off sharply, standing as well, but Morgana’s eyes, not filled with tears any longer, were sharp and critical upon him as they widened in realization.

“This is about that captain, isn’t it?” Her eyes flashed dangerously. “I knew it. You’re letting him keep you. Arthur! Did you learn _nothing_ in Guild training? You _never_ let a client do that to you. You _never_ let yourself become so dependent on them.”

“He’s not keeping me!” Arthur very nearly shouted at her. “He is _not_ my client, Morgana. He never _was_ my client. And I’m not going to be dependent on him! Or if I am, then I’m depending on the crew as a whole. I’m _working_ for them. Christ, Morgana!”

“Working for them?” Morgana’s voice didn’t lose its judgmental quality, but her eyes betrayed confusion. “Doing what, exactly?”

“Criminal activities,” Arthur hissed in her direction, anger boiling in his stomach. “I’ve been helping them for months with their jobs. Now I’m just getting paid for it.” Morgana was clearly stunned. “I’m using my military training again. Tactics, strategies – the whole gambit. And I _like_ it, Morgana. A hell of a lot more than I’ve ever liked being a Companion.”

Morgana was silent for a moment before she slowly lowered herself into a sitting position, glancing around her apartment as if a bit lost. “You always did hate it, didn’t you,” she said softly. “You were never happy. Even in training, you were never happy. I tried not to see it because I liked having you nearby.”

“Seeing you every weekend,” Arthur admitted as he sat again as well, the anger fading from his voice and his voice and his heart, “was the best part of Companion training.”

“…I’m sorry,” Morgana said after a moment and Arthur glanced at her, surprised. It wasn’t often his sister admitted she was wrong. Again, they were alike in that matter. “I wasn’t being fair. It’s your life, Arthur. I don’t trust that crew of yours, not yet, but if _you_ do…I suppose that’s enough for me.”

“Thank you,” Arthur told her genuinely. He waited a moment before reassuring her, “Merlin’s not keeping me, Morgana. Aithusa isn’t a cage. Aithusa….Aithusa is _freedom_. Merlin is the one who showed me what freedom meant in the first place.”

“Father never did understand the need for freedom,” Morgana met his eyes, hers unspeakably pitying. “I hate him for what he did for you, and now all I can think about is how he might do the same to me.”

“Well, I’m moved out of Aithusa’s shuttle,” Arthur informed her, holding in a smile, the idea pleasing him. “I can hardly afford it anymore with the meager wages I’ll be making. So if you’d ever want to rent it…come see the ‘verse for yourself…”

Morgana’s lips twitched into an almost-smile. “Maybe someday.”

It was enough for Arthur.

He hugged her goodbye and went to find his crew.

* * *

 

_“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”_

Merlin’s hands were over Arthur’s eyes, but he could still see the light that the candles gave off through the holes in his fingers. Lance and Leon both easily had the best singing voices, and Gwaine, as expected, sang it like a drinking song, banging his bottle of gin on the table every other second.

Finally, Merlin let his fingers fall from Arthur’s face and the dimly lit dining hall came into view, his friends’ faces shining. Gwen and Leon sat to his right, arm in arm, grinning brightly at him. Gwaine was on his left, waving his gin bottle in Arthur’s direction; Gaius, from next to him, was giving him a judgmental look. Morgana sat just beyond them, a light but distant smile on her face as she regarded the festivities.

Lance held the cake out in front of him, and Arthur let out a full-bellied laugh when he saw what it looked like.

“A cake made of protein bars,” Arthur snickered into his hand. “You think you’re so clever.”

“This one’s for the rest of us,” Lance informed him with a dancing grin as Gwen hurried behind him to grab something from the kitchen. “ _This_ one’s for you.”

Gwen, beaming, handed him a plate with a slice of what was very clearly chocolate cake with white icing, the likes of which Arthur hadn’t had in years. He bit his lip to keep from smiling too much.

“Happy birthday,” Morgana said lightly from across Gaius. “The cake is your present from me.”

“Since the rest of us can’t afford _fei-oo_ ,” Lance laughed, “Gwen thought it would be a sweet idea if we all said something nice about you as our collective gift.”

“Flattery is an excellent birthday present,” Arthur said, a light smile dancing on his lips. He reached up to touch Merlin’s hand, still light on his shoulder. From above him, Merlin leaned down to kiss the top of his head as he slid past Arthur to sit again, lowering his arm to sling around Arthur’s waist.

Arthur reached forward to start eating his deliciously flavorful cake, everyone else exchanging distressed looks as they dug into the protein bars.

“Well, I’ll start,” Gwen said brightly. “I like that when you come to visit me in the engine room, you actually help me with whatever I’m doing. You don’t just sit on my machinery and dink around like certain people I could mention.”

Arthur thought she meant Gwaine, but it was her husband she gave a dirty look to. He laughed out loud.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Leon said, shooting a disgruntled look at his wife before smiling genuinely over at Arthur. “I’m glad that you’re an official criminal now. They used to pull me into their shit all the time, but now that they have an extra man, I can live a crime-free life.”

“Forgetting the fact that you’re our pilot and you’re automatically implicated in all crimes committed,” Merlin said in a sing-song voice, Arthur chuckling as he leaned toward him.

“Arthur is the only person,” Lance declared with more gusto than he usually did, “who I will ever trust to keep Merlin from doing stupid things. The number of stupid things Merlin has done has drastically decreased this pat year, and I know exactly who to thank for that. Half of my job description was keeping Merlin from doing stupid things, and now I finally have time for rest and relaxation. Thank you, Arthur, for your mighty sacrifice.”

Merlin flipped Lance off as Arthur cracked up, the table following in suit.

“Well, maybe I should go,” Merlin said, still looking mock-hurt over Lance’s accusations. “ _I_ like how you’re finally comfortable enough to whine about things. When you first got here, you were the picture of politeness and professionalism. Now all I hear every day is, _it’s too warm. Don’t we have anything else to eat? Why can’t we go here? Why can’t I do this? Merlin, I want this. Now it’s too cold. Aren’t there blankets on this ship?_

“You like my complaints,” Arthur was actually kind of touched, even though he had to hit Merlin’s shoulder for his whiny interpretation of Arthur’s…well, whining.

“That’s true love,” Leon muttered under his breath. Merlin flipped him off as well, but his smile was soft around the edges as he played with Arthur’s fingers.

“I think I will interrupt whatever _this_ is,” Gaius raised an eyebrow in their direction, “and say that I enjoy how Arthur has brought this ship together. Everyone here has grown and changed because of _you_ , Arthur. You help this heap of junk in the blackest of skies become brighter.”

“Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur said, actually a bit shocked at how nice his words were, thinking that he had to be exaggerating, but the rest of the crew exchanged smiling looks. Merlin pressed his head against Arthurs shoulder and he thought _maybe_.

“I guess I’m next,” Morgana said, leaning forward with a small smirk. Arthur was immediately worried. “I can’t really top that in terms of niceness, so all I’m going to say is that you’re my brother and you share my blood. Which means that you’re better off than most everyone else in the ‘verse.”

Arthur tried not to laugh hard enough to make Morgana think that he liked her joke, but the crew laughed loud enough for him, Gwen giggling and hiding her face. Arthur was reminded that her and Leon’s anniversary was coming soon.

“Which leaves me,” Gwaine declared, and Arthur winced a little bit inside. He and Gwaine were actually on very good terms now, but sometimes Gwaine’s jokes went a little too far. But this time, all Gwaine did was shrug, grinning at Arthur in his genuine and irreverent way. “And all I’ve got to say is that you never, _ever_ say anything nice about your brother. That means admitting weakness and can be used against you later.”

Oddly, it was that comment that touched Arthur the most. He heard Gwen actually ‘aww’ from beside him; Merlin gave Gwaine an appreciatory look. Arthur shook his head with a grin as he said “Thank you. To everyone. Thank you so much. This is…the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he finished lamely, not knowing how to articulate how much he owed them, how grateful he was to be a part of their little family.

They sat eating cake and laughing at one another for longer than Arthur knew. It wasn’t until long past the dinner hours when Merlin pulled him aside and into the hallway, away from prying eyes and ears.

“What?” Arthur asked, laughing, as Merlin pulled him into a kiss.

“I wanted to give you your birthday present,” Merlin explained, kissing Arthur again. Arthur pulled away, biting his lip.

“You can’t afford a birthday present,” Arthur pointed out, but then a thought occurred to him and he grinned. “Is my birthday present getting to do something fun in bed tonight? Do I finally get to blow you?”

Merlin gave him a tetchy look. Merlin didn’t like Arthur doing a lot of work when they were in bed together, worried that Arthur would fall back into the pattern that he had kept up with his clients. Arthur had repeatedly assured Merlin that it wasn’t the same, but he understood why Merlin was insecure about it; he knew that there were far worse problems to have.

Just because he and Merlin got frustrated with each other didn’t change the fact that Arthur’s hand still sought Merlin’s out every time he entered a room.

“You can if you want to,” Merlin ceded with a little smile on his face and Arthur beamed. “But that’s not your present.”

“What’s my present?” Arthur couldn’t help but be a little excited, especially by Merlin’s shy smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled something out, something that was very clearly made of wood. Merlin must have whittled him something.

Arthur took it from his hands and smiled. “It’s a dragon,” he marveled at the tiny creature, the intricate work done on its wings to make it look like it was flying. “Thank you.”

“I –” Merlin started, blushing slightly as he took Arthur’s hand. “I always loved the myths of dragons when I was younger. I wanted a pet dragon. My mother broke my heart when she told me that they weren’t real. The first time I went to a shipyard, I thought all of the ships had to be dragons. Space dragons. I’ve always thought of Aithusa as the dragon I never had as a kid.”

He smiled slightly, leaning in to press his head against Arthur’s. “ _Pendragon_. I knew you had to be special. I knew you belonged up here.”

“It’s not really my name anymore, though,” Arthur reminded him, despite the fact that he beyond touched by the little wooden piece of art. He didn’t really have a surname that he used anymore; he didn’t need one on Aithusa. He didn’t need papers or an identity; he could just be Arthur. He hoped that someday he’d use Merlin’s name, but for now, he was content with just being Arthur.

“I don’t care,” Merlin said gently, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re still a dragon. Everything I’ve always wanted.”

Arthur felt something pull at his heart as he gathered Merlin into a hug. They rocked against one another. “I’ll put it above our bed,” he whispered, running a hand across the smooth wood.

“Hey! Lovebirds!” Gwaine popped his head out from the dining room and Arthur reluctantly let go of Merlin, whose face was still a bit red. “It may be Arthur’s special day, but we ain’t got a lotta time before we land on Regina. And now that the money is bein’ split a new way…”

“Well, happy birthday,” Merlin muttered, pushing Arthur slightly back into the dining hall, with a laughing look on his face. Gwaine and Lance were waiting for them, a map of the mining explosion in Regina prominent on the table.

“So we’re scavengin’ for bits on this one?” Arthur asked as he pulled out his usual chair, Gwaine sliding into place across from him.

“Yessir,” Lance said, pointing to the center of the map as he too took a chair. “Word is that it’s a hazard zone due to fumes, but that won’t stop vultures like us now, will it?”

“I worked in the mines, I know where they would’ve kept the best goodies,” Merlin said, but instead of taking his chair, he pressed up behind Arthur as he had during the birthday celebration, leaning over his shoulder to turn the map toward him. “I think I even worked this one specifically. I’ll be the guide.”

“You and Lance have narrower hands, so you two should get the goods and Gwaine and I should be the lookouts,” Arthur leaned back against Merlin’s chest just enough to feel the pressure of Merlin’s heartbeat behind him.

Gwaine said something else, but Arthur closed his eyes for half a second. He clutched the dragon in his hand, his friends laughed around him, they had a job to do, and Merlin’s heartbeat was steady and present, never wavering.

Arthur smiled.


End file.
